Will and Elizabeth
by Romen
Summary: The story of Will and Elizabeth’s youth up from the point that she takes the medallion off of his neck. CHAP. 23 is HERE!
1. Will Turner

Hello, everyone! I hope that you enjoy this fan-fic; I dreamt it up in one night LOL. It's really about Will and Elizabeth, so if you're only a Jack Sparrow fan, I suggest that you read something else, but if you're like me, and you adore each and every one of them, you might just enjoy this!  
Please post reviews!

Chapter1: Will Turner

Elizabeth blinked. Suddenly, the ship with the black sails disappeared. Had she really even seen it? Had it just been a trick of the light? The young girl examined the medallion that she had pulled off of the neck of the boy again. Perhaps it had just been the light reflecting off of the gold. No, she really had seen a ship.

Oh well. It wasn't there anymore. What use was there worrying about it now?

But Mr. Gibbs had said that pirates had destroyed the merchant ship. He had said that it hadn't been an accident. If this boy really was a pirate, and she had seen a pirate ship, that would mean...

Elizabeth pushed the thoughts to the back of her head. Looking around, she hurriedly hid the medallion in her petticoats for the time being.

It was good timing too, for at that moment, her father appeared right behind her.

"Elizabeth?" he asked, lightly touching her shoulder in that fatherly, guiding way that parents are doing constantly.

"Yes, father?" she replied, turning to look up at him and smoothing her skirts.

The governor decided not to ask what she was doing. He probably didn't want to know. She was always up to some kind of mischief. He believed that if she were around more young women close to her age that she would behave more lady-like. Growing up on the sea hadn't done her any good, and she definitely didn't have any play-mates.

He pulled himself from his thoughts and looked down at her, smiling gently. "Why don't you go below-deck and keep the boy company? He might be tad bit distressed after the incident."

Elizabeth looked up at the smoking remains of the merchant ship. She nodded, and headed below-deck.

Elizabeth peeked into the room, making sure that she did not spill the tray that she was holding. The boy - Will Turner, she thought he said his name was- was being questioned about the accident by Captain Norrington.

Elizabeth thought that Norrington could be rather scary at times. He was a very harsh looking young man, and he had a very brutal opinion towards piracy. Elizabeth thought that it would be exciting to meet a pirate; she often pretended that she was one. She knew that, being a woman, it would be very un-lady-like to be a wench, but it was fun to imagine that she could be.

Elizabeth stepped into the room. "Good day, Captain Norrington." She curtsied.

"Good day, Miss Swann. What is your business?"

Elizabeth eyed Will. His face was pale, and she thought that he looked a little frightened. She was positive that it was from Norrington as well as the accident. At least, she would be if she were in the boy's position. She quickly looked back at Norrington.

"My father sent me down here to keep Mr. Turner company," she said promptly. "I also brought some food." She cocked her head towards the tray that she was carrying.

Norrington looked back and forth between the two, as if assessing the situation. He nodded towards Elizabeth. "Then I shall take my leave." With that said, he strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

For a long while, Elizabeth stood, staring at Will with the tray in her hands. He looked around the room, as if afraid to meet her gaze. The creaking of the rocking ship was the only sound during that tense silence.

Elizabeth set the tray down on a nightstand next to the bed that Will was sitting up on. "You can have some of the food, if you want to."

Will shook his head. "No, thank you, miss, I don't feel very well."

Elizabeth smiled. She had never been called 'miss' by a boy before, and she found it quite strange. "You might feel better if you eat something."

Another long, thick silence stretched out between them. Elizabeth sat down in a chair and pursed her lips in a slight smile (you know, that smile that girls do when they're at a loss for words). She crossed her legs, putting her hands between her knees.

"So," she began, "do you remember how it...happened?"

Will shook his head.

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm sure you've heard that question many times by now." She looked down at the floor and swung her legs back in forth, humming to herself. "You must have been traveling with someone else. Were you traveling with your mother? If you were, she'll be here soon, because they've sent out scouts in rowboats to look for survivors, and if you were strong enough to survive, I'm positive that your mother was."

Will frowned. "My mother is dead. She died back home."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Elizabeth hesitated. "My mother is dead too."

Elizabeth was sure that she wasn't doing a very good job of comforting him, but at least she was keeping him busy. She twisted another curl around her finger, sighing yet once again.

"You must be from Ireland," she teased

Will blinked. "I'm from England."

Elizabeth nodded knowingly and leaned forward. "I know. I was just joking." She observed his face. It was still unreadable. "Why were on a merchant ship if your mother...passed away?"

"I was looking for my father. He's a merchant sailor, and my mother said that he lived out here." Will pulled the blanket around him a bit tighter. "I was working on the ship."

Elizabeth tried to imagine him steering or being a look-out at the crow's nest, a telescope in his hand. "What did you do?"

"I did odd jobs; you know, swab the deck, served the gruel...Things like that, mostly."

Elizabeth pictured herself trying to swab the deck in her layers and layers of skirts, slipping around on the wet floor with her little dress shoes. She broke into a fit of giggles.

Will flushed. "Swabbing the deck and serving the gruel is not easy work, miss, and it is certainly not amusing. It takes a lot of energy."

"Oh, you misunderstand me; I'm not laughing at you! I was just thinking of something else!" She looked at the disbelieving expression on his face. "No, I promise!"

Will frowned. "All right. I suppose that it does not matter anyhow."

Elizabeth uncrossed her legs and put her arms on the arms of the chair. "So, Will; were you taught your reading, writing and arithmetic?"

Will nodded. "My mother taught me my numbers and how to read and write, and the nuns at the abbey _were _teaching me arithmetic before I left."

"Did you go to the abbey after your mother died?" Elizabeth asked softly.

Will nodded. "I wasn't there very long. They were very cruel."

Elizabeth nodded, remembering Sunday School in London. "Yes, I know what you mean."

Will smiled. "What is your name?"

"My name is Elizabeth Swann." Elizabeth returned the grin. "My father is the governor of Port Royal. We're returning from a vacation in England."

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth waved the formality away. "Really, Will, I'd prefer if you'd call me Elizabeth, and just 'Elizabeth'."

"But, you are the-"

"I've had friends before that called me Elizabeth. They didn't call me Miss, or anything." Elizabeth racked her brain for one. "Like...Susan. She was one our of old maid's daughters. We were friends for a while, and she called me Elizabeth."

Elizabeth didn't mention that Susan was a stupid little git, and that they were friends for five minutes.

Will's voice was reluctant. "If you insist, I shall, but..."

"Good. It's settled then," she interrupted. She stood up and pointed to his tray. "Really, Will, you should try to eat _something_. Dinner is not for quite a while."

Will picked up a piece of bread took a bite out of it, swallowing. Suddenly, his hand went to his neck. He sat up quickly.

"It's gone!" he hissed, mostly to himself.

"What's gone?" Elizabeth asked, fearing the answer.

"It's...nothing, really." Will's face fell to the same blank expression. "Just...really, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Elizabeth could almost swear that the medallion was about to burn a hole right through her skirts. Thankfully, she was saved utter humiliation by the sound of the rowboats returning with other survivors.


	2. Dinner

Thank you for your wonderful reviews! I enjoyed reading them!

This chapter is not as long, but I promise that I'll have another update soon.

Romen

Chapter2: Dinner with Governor Swann

Will clumsily tried to cut through his meat with the knife. It made a loud clatter on the plate. He flinched, feeling the captain's eyes on him. If he'd learned one thing and one thing only from being on the merchant ship, it was not to attract the captain's attention.

"So, Turner," Norrington said (slicing through his meal with perfect precision, I might add), "you're quite used to being on the sea?"

Will nodded, still trying to slice. "Yes. I've been on ships before this one, meaning the merchant ship, sir."

"Well, you're very lucky to be able to be aboard another one," Governor Swann pointed out. "We found only seven other survivors, and many of them are severely injured."

Swish, swish, swish. Governor Swann cut through his dinner choppily, yet it was efficient and he got the job done. Will swallowed.

"Yes, sir, I am lucky," he said quickly. "I'm god-blessed."

That got a rise of laughter from them all. Will shut his mouth and focused back onto his food. He glanced at Elizabeth. She had her knife tilted upward, and was sure of where she wanted it to go.

"Where were your parents during this, Mr. Turner?" Governor Swann asked before taking a bite. "I hope that they were not among those lost on the boat."

Will shook his head. "My mother died back home, in England, sir, and I don't really know where my father is."

Governor Swann and Captain Norrington looked at each, speaking with their eyes.

"Oh, but he's not dead," Will said quickly. "He's still alive. I've come out here to find him, and when I do, we'll probably go back to England together."

Governor Swann had a pitying look on his face. "Well, I hope that you keep faith, my boy. In the meantime, you can stay with my daughter and I. Just until you find your father, then you two can go back to England together."

Was there a hint of sarcasm in his voice?

"Oh, sir, that's not necessary...I can..."

Governor Swann held up his hand at Will's protests. "No 'buts'. You'll enjoy life at our mansion. We can keep you well-fed and get you a good education. It would be better than living on a ship, anyway."

"Oh, please, Will, we would have so much fun together!" Elizabeth piped up. "We could take our lessons together!"

"Well, we'll have to see about that part," Governor Swann said slowly. "Anyway, we're not too far from Port Royal. I suspect that you two should get to know each other."


	3. In the Governor's House

Okay, finally: chapter three. It took me quite a while to write this one; I struggled with it a bit. However, I'm happy with the way that it turned out and I hope that you are too.  
So, please enjoy!  
-Romen  
PS- Please forgive me if Elizabeth calls Gov. Swann 'Ada', but I'm also working on something for LOTR.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters. I do own Margaret, the mentioned Madame Herrington and Mr. Henry.

3. In the Governor's House

Will clutched his small package of clothing and other essentials tightly in his hands. The sound of the horses' hoof beats on the cobblestone streets of Port Royal echoed in his ears. He could Elizabeth chattering excitedly with her father.

"Oh, yes, we've redecorated the parlor while we were away, haven't we, Father?" she was saying, barely being able to keep still. "What color is it now?" She turned to look at Will. "It used to have an olive and cream accent, didn't it, Father? Now it is..."

"It's still olive and cream," the governor admitted, slightly shrugging. "However, the molding is a bit different and the cream has a slight olive accent."

"I can't wait to see it!" Elizabeth softly clapped her hands together in anticipation. "Father's friend Mr. Henry designed it for his. That's what he does professionally, isn't it, Father?" She looked at her father again, blinking.

"Yes, that is Mr. Henry's job, dear."

"I want to do that when I become an adult. Oh father, do you think that I could?" Elizabeth smiled hopefully.

Governor Swann sighed. "Elizabeth, you are a young lady, and that is hardly a profession for a young lady to pursue."

"Oh." Elizabeth's face fell, but it soon shone with inquisitiveness. "Then what is a profession that a young lady like me should pursue?"

"Dear, why don't we go over this later..."

"But, Father, I want to discuss it now..."

"We can talk about this another time, Elizabeth." The governor pointed out the carriage window. "Right now, we're here."

Elizabeth jumped about an inch in her seat, poking her head out of the window. She turned back around to face Will.

"He's right, Will; we are here!" She grinned. "You'll like it so much here. There are a lot of horses..."

"Not that you will be riding any of them," Governor Swann quickly intercepted.

"Yes, well," Elizabeth began again (a bit sheepishly?), "it is very lovely inside, and there are many books in the library, if you care to read them."

Will could feel the carriage stop. He swallowed, his throat suddenly quite dry. The door opened. The governor stepped out first, then took Elizabeth's hand to assist her. Will followed, feeling very small and unimportant. The sight of the mansion only increased this.

"Here it is," Elizabeth said, pointing towards it. "It's a bit...smaller than our chateau in England, but I feel much more comfortable here, as if this is my real home." She smiled, clasping her hands behind her. "I can't imagine ever living outside of Port Royal."

Will could only manage to say, "Smaller?"

Elizabeth laughed, grabbing his hand and running towards the entrance. "Come on, let me show you around!"

"Be careful," Will could hear the governor say somewhere behind them. This just caused more giggles to erupt from Elizabeth.

"Where are we going?" Will asked when he found his voice again. Elizabeth just turned around to glance at him, and then laughed again. Will wondered if she was making fun of him, but then decided that this was part of his odd nature. He had noticed such behavior from Elizabeth quite frequently when they were on the ship. He supposed that she must act this way here as well.

"Here we are." Elizabeth stopped in front of a door and crossed her arms, smiling. She turned back to look at Will, observing his face.

"What is it?" he asked softly, glancing back and forth between Elizabeth and the door.

"This," Elizabeth said, turning the doorknob and opening the door, "is the schoolroom."

Will frowned, stepping inside. "That's it?"

"That's it! Will, don't you understand?" She sat down in one of the chairs, expecting an answer from him, her eyes wide.

"Uh, it means we'll have school...in here?"

Elizabeth frowned. "Well, yes, but it also means that my father won't be sending me to Finishing School any time soon." She paused. "You know what Finish School is, don't you?"

"Yes, I know what Finishing School is." He glanced over at some of the books nervously. "But, he hasn't said anything about sending you to Finishing School, has he?"

"Well, he has a few times. 'Elizabeth'", she began, mimicking her father's voice, "'maybe if you went through Finishing School you might have already known not to put her elbows on the table.' 'Perhaps you would embroider an N that looked less like an R if you'd gone through Finishing School.' You know, just small hints like that. I found out about the schoolroom right before we arrived from Captain Norrington."

Will tried to imagine Elizabeth in Finishing School. The vision was not very pleasant.

"Aren't you a bit young to be sent to Finishing School?" Will asked cautiously.

"Madam Herrington says that no one is too young to learn some manners," Elizabeth quoted, crossing her arms.

"Who's Madame Herrington?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "She's the woman who has been trying for years - since I was five, I believe - to have my father admit me to Finishing School. Truly, I have to agree with her."

That was something that he hadn't expected to hear out of her! "You agree with her?"

"Well, not that I want to go or anything, it's just that there are a lot of girls even younger than me who are already enrolled," she admitted, unfolding her arms to shrug. "Some of them are even seven years old."

"If there are many girls who are younger than you in the school, then perhaps your father won't enroll you at all."

Elizabeth sighed. "We can only hope."

A maid appeared in the doorway. "Good day, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth sat up straight. "Good day, Margaret. What brings you here?"

"Gov. Swann has asked me to escort Mr. Turner to his sleeping quarters," Margaret replied, smiling down fondly at Will.

"Go along, Will," Elizabeth said sadly. "I suppose I shall go and observe the parlor."

Here's the responses:

radcliffe18 : I'm glad that you like it so far. Sorry for the slow update!  
TrudiRose: Thanks! I hope that you liked this chapter as well.

williz: Yes, I have enjoyed writing this one so far. I'm glad that you like it!  
BelleChat: Thanks! Yes, I have always wanted more from the movie when Elizabeth and Will first meet.  
RoXySuRfEr12: Ha ha I'm glad that you're interested; so am I.  
Please keep up with your reviews; they are a lot of fun to read. 


	4. Susan

Okay, sorry for the slow update. I know, I know; I did update though, didn't I?  
Enjoy!  
-Romen

4. Susan

Will had to pick up his pace to keep up with Margaret. She was very tall, and walked with a long stride. She noticed how fast he was going and laughed, slowing down a bit.

"I heard that they found you floating on the ocean," she said, smiling half of a smile.

Will nodded, blushing slightly. "Eliz- Miss Swann saw me. If it wasn't for her, I would be dead right now, and probably many others would be too."

"Hmm." Margaret's smile grew larger. "Miss Swann must be an interesting companion."

"I don't understand what you mean." Will frowned as Margaret laughed.

"There certainly is never a dull moment around her," Margaret explained. "She's always very busy with some kind of mischievous business."

"She doesn't get herself into trouble, does she?" Will couldn't imagine Elizabeth being swatted with a switch. She would probably cry.

Margaret must have understood his meaning. "Occasionally, but then she must study longer, or perhaps she cannot go outside and play for a few days."

Will let out a sigh of relief, which made Margaret laugh even harder. "What is so funny?"

"You are a sweet child." Margaret held a door open for him as they stepped outside, heading towards a small building not too far from where they were standing. It was smaller than the mansion, and it did not seem as lavish.

"Those are the servant's quarters," Margaret informed him, taking his hand and continuing. "You will be staying there. If you ever need anything, feel free to come to me and ask, all right?"

Will nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Margaret laughed again. "You're certainly more polite than Susan."

"Who is she?"

"Susan is my daughter," Margaret answered. "She's a bit...headstrong. You two will get along fine, though."

"Headstrong?"

Margaret looked down at him, a twinkle in her eyes. "You'll see what I mean."

-

"I'm going to have to leave you here," Margaret said, sounding regretful. She had just taken Will to his room. It was plain, but it had a bed and a chest of drawers. "Go ahead and get settled in. If you need anything, ask someone. Susan should be around here somewhere."

Will smiled. "I'll be fine." He watched Margaret go, feeling a bit lonely. He flopped down on the bed and shut his eyes, thinking of what Margaret had said about Elizabeth.

He supposed that he could imagine her doing something mischievous, but he still couldn't imagine her getting into any kind of trouble. He wondered what things she did that deserved even only a small reprimand.

Will suddenly felt very tired. He yawned. Perhaps he would doze off for just a little...

BANG.

Shouts came from downstairs. Will groaned, pulling his pillow over his head. Couldn't these people go for just an hour without making any noise?

"I'm fine," someone was saying. "I'll just go change."

Will could hear someone pounding up the stairs. He heard them walk down the hall.

"Who are you?"

Will sighed, hoping that the voice wasn't addressing him. He sat up anyway. A girl was standing in the doorway, the front of her dress soaked. Her hands were on her hips.

"My name is Will Turner," he answered her, suppressing another yawn. "I'm-"

"Oh, yes; you're that boy that they found in the water." She smirked. "My name is Susan Benton."

"Susan..?" Where had he heard that name before? Oh yes; she was Margaret's daughter.

"It's nice to meet you, Susan," he replied. He observed her dress once more. "What happened?"

She frowned. "Why do you want to know? Is it any of your business?"

Will was shocked. "It isn't really any of my business. I was just...interested."

"Humph." She snorted. "Well, I suppose that I'll tell you if you come and help clean up." She grinned, retreating to her own quarters.

Will sighed again. He pulled his hair back again and went downstairs, not knowing what he would see.

Water covered the floor. Another servant was already mopping. Will grabbed a mop and began helping, expecting Susan to come down the stairs at any moment.

Half an hour later, the floor was dry again. Will scowled, setting the mop down. At that moment, Susan appeared, grinning.

"I spilt the dishwater," she said. "Thanks for helping."

"You tricked me." Will drew his eyebrows together.

Susan waved her hand. "More or less. Actually, not really. I mean, all I said was that if you helped, I would tell you what I did. And, well, I told you, did I not?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"So, I did not trick you. I just had you so intrigued that you would help to get the answer." Susan opened the front door, about to step outside. She paused. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

Here's the responses:  
RoXySuRfEr12: Don't worry, I will; sorry for the slow updates LOL. I'll try to get in a few this week. I'm glad you like it too! They are cute.  
williz: I'm glad you like it! I hoped that you liked this chapter too. radcliffe18: Yay, I'm glad you like it! Sorry for the slow updates. Finishing School is like...It's a private school for girls where manners, social arts, and arts are taught. I hoped you liked this chapter too! 


	5. Peasant Boy

Hi all! Yes, an update is here. I'm sorry that it took me so long, but I'm sure you all understand.  
Yes Susan is a bit of a jerk, isn't she? (Susan clenches her hands into fists) Uh...But she is my favorite original character EVER, right guys? (Will and Elizabeth nod fervently)  
Anyway, the responses to your reviews are at the end of the page and please r and r for this chapter. Your reviews truly are a joy to read. And, as always, please enjoy.  
-Romen PS- Who watched the Academy Awards yesterday? (Raises hand) Who liked when Orlando Bloom announced? (Raises hand) Who didn't like Kirsten Dunst when she made fun of him for her mistake? (Raises hand)

Disclaimer: You can't possibly think that I'm making any money off of this, cuz I'm not. I don't own any characters from POTC, but I do own Margaret and, unfortunately, Susan. (Susan glares) Um...I'm so lucky, aren't I? Oh yeah; I also own the cook and Mary.

5. Peasant Boy

Elizabeth sighed as she watched Will walk alongside Margaret out of the window. She shut the curtains and crossed her arms, wondering what she should do now. She had only been with Will for a few weeks and it already seemed that she didn't know what to do with herself when he wasn't around to keep her company.

She laughed. Wasn't that odd? She was used to keeping herself entertained. Simple things like counting the number of clouds in the sky had evolved into a pastime. She had never really had any real friends before, and she hoped the Will was becoming one. Sometimes she wondered if he really enjoyed being around her or he just acted that way so that he wouldn't hurt her feelings. Elizabeth frowned.

"Now you must do something!" she said to herself, pacing around the room. "You cannot sit up here all day." She paused, playing with the end of her sleeve. "Perhaps you could see the parlor..."

That sounded good enough. Elizabeth strode purposefully from the room and shut the door behind her, skipping down the stairs and coming to stand next to her father in the parlor entrance, looking around.

"What do you think?" he asked, taking her hand.

Elizabeth hesitated. "It...It looks a lot like it did last time."

Captain Norrington laughed. Elizabeth had not known that he was there, and she whirled around to look at him. She hated when people laughed at her like that. It made her feel so young and stupid.

"Why don't you run along, dear?" Gov. Swann smiled. "Norrington and I have a lot to discuss."

Elizabeth sighed. "All right." She walked away dejectedly, wandering aimlessly throughout the house.

'Nothing to do...Nothing...Nothing at all.'

'There is nothing to do...Nothing...Not a single thing.'

'This is incredibly boring.'

Elizabeth stopped outside of the kitchen. She could see the cook and Mary with their heads together, gossiping. Elizabeth looked around to see if anyone was coming, and quickly tiptoed behind them to hide in the pantry, holding her breath to see if they'd noticed her. When they didn't turn around or say anything, she crossed her legs and strained her ears to hear them speaking.

This was not the first time that Elizabeth had eavesdropped on either of them. In fact, it had been quite a fond hobby of hers ever since she had been eight. They knew everything that was going on with everyone in Port Royal, it seemed, and Elizabeth gathered a lot of information from both of them. She was careful to never let anyone know her interest in this activity. Even she knew that it would get her more than a reprimand from more than one person.

"You know that girl, Margaret's daughter? Susan?" Cook was saying, slicing something.

Mary nodded. She was trying to pretend that she was working but was doing a poor job of it. "Yes, that ugly little brat?"

"Well, she told me that the boy that they found out in the ocean is going to be staying in the servants' quarters!"

Mary gasped, trying to look animated. "He's staying here?"

Now it was Cook's turn to nod. "Can you believe it, them taking in strange dirty faced children like that? It just isn't proper."

Elizabeth felt her face grow hot. What did she mean, 'strange dirty faced children'? She leaned forward, wondering if she'd heard correctly.

"You know," Mary began, going back to acting like she was doing something, "after the governor arrived with his daughter, I discovered that my cross was missing."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She knew what Mary was talking about. Mary was always bragging about this gaudy looking metal cross that had been 'passed down through generations' in her family. She wore it on Sundays to church and occasionally on important holidays. It was a hideous piece of jewelry. It fit Mary perfectly.

"What, are you saying that you think that the boy did it?"

Mary shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, but he looks like a devious little demon to me. And have you heard him talk? Such language!"

'Such language'! He was the one who called her Miss Swann!

"It probably is him, you know," Cook replied, stopping to look at Mary. "You know the Jeffersons, that wealthy family that my mother and father worked for when I was a lass? Well, they adopted a little girl when I was about thirteen. She seemed just like this boy; hard-headed, insolent, ignorant. Things started disappearing the moment she stepped in the door. Mr. Jefferson knew that it was her, they found evidence one day. She had stolen Mrs. Jefferson's wedding ring and was planning to sell it, I suppose, or was using it to play with like it was just some trinket."

"Oooh, what did Mr. Jefferson do?" Mary breathed.

"Well, all he did was tell her that stealing was wrong, something that any well-brought up English girl should know. She kept stealing and never stopped." Cook paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "And she ran off with young Mr. Jefferson."

Mary shook her head sadly. "Well, we can only hope that something like that doesn't happen to our young Miss Swann!"

"Hope all you want, but I know that it will happen eventually!" Cook waved her knife in the air to emphasize her meaning. "It always does. And this one seems like a real confidence man. Out and out pirate, if you know what I mean."

Elizabeth swallowed. Did they know...?

"I still don't see Miss Swann falling for someone like that..."

"It happens to the best of us," Cook said sadly. "Next thing you know, young Miss Swann will be young Mrs..."

"Turner?"

"Yes, thank you, the next thing we know young Miss Swann will be young Mrs. Turner, mark my words."

Elizabeth burst through the pantry doors, facing the two very shocked looking women. "That's not true! Will is a fine young lad and you know it!"

"What were you doing in there?" Mary hissed, her eyes narrowing.

"That doesn't matter," Elizabeth snapped. "I don't know who stole your ugly cross, but it wasn't Will. You probably just lost it."

"How dare you!" Cook waved her knife around again. "Defending that little heathen! You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes I do." Elizabeth crossed her arms, glaring at the both of them. "I don't know about that girl that you knew in England, but Will is not a confidence man and he is definitely NOT a pirate."

"Get out of here!" Cook shouted, shooing Elizabeth through the door. "Out, now!"

Elizabeth heard the sound of the door being slammed behind her. She ran to the parlor, planning on telling her father what those two witches were saying about Will. 'Such language,' goodness gracious! He hadn't even spoken to them. She halted outside of the parlor, seeing that her father was still talking to Norrington. She sat down on a bench and crossed her legs, waiting for their discussion to end.

Once again, Elizabeth couldn't resist the temptation of listening in the on a conversation. She poked her head around the door, peeking inside.

"Are you sure that you want to keep him here?" Norrington was saying. "We could always send him to an orphanage, or perhaps an abbey."

Elizabeth felt her ears grow hot. She clenched her fist, biting down on the slew of words that she was ready to shout.

"I'm sure," her father replied calmly, playing with something on his desk. "When he gets a bit older he could become an apprentice of some sort. He won't be here for long."

Even her father spoke of him as if he were a burden. Elizabeth groaned and stood, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. She wandered back to her room where she shut her door and locked it tight, staring at Will's medallion for quite some time.

TBC...

Fanfare Your responses:  
BelleChat: Ah, thank you, thank you...I'll keep updating. This is such a sweet little story; it contrasts greatly to my other ones. HPlover18: I hope that you liked this story; sorry for the slow update! 

RoXySuRfEr12L: Yes, that is not the last that we have seen of Susan LOL. I hope that you liked this chapter.

williz: Ha ha thanks; I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. 

radcliffe18: Thanks, I hope that you liked this chapter as well. Yes, Susan is really rude; she always will be, too. 

Jenn1: Strange enough, there really aren't that many. It kind of surprised me. Anyway, I hope that you liked this chapter. :) 

Coollilyflower: Sorry for the slow update! I hope that you liked this chapter as well. 


	6. The Funeral

OMG! I'm so sorry that it has taken me this long to update! I'll update again in a few days.

Again, I would like to thank you for all of your wonderful reviews. They are truly a joy to read. The responses are at the end of the page.

Now, without further ado, let us begin!

Romen

Disclaimer: I own nothing but all of the original characters, so you can't sue me! Buwahaha!

6. The Funeral

Swish, swish, swish. Susan swirled the water as she scrubbed the dishes, her blond hair tucked neatly beneath a crisp, white bonnet that shaded her face from the warm afternoon sun. She was no longer allowed to wash the dishes indoors after the 'incident' that had happened a few days ago. She was now confined to do this duty out-of-doors, and Will was certain that she liked it better that way.

"Here; dry it." Susan handed Will a plate, not even looking up. Her sentences were always short and curt. He took it from her, looking back down at the book that he was reading as he did his duty.

It was probably better that Susan chose not to speak with him like Elizabeth did. She wasn't really someone that Will would want to consider as his friend. She was constantly talking back and grinning deviously to herself, as if she always had something planned. No wonder she had such a bad reputation.

"Read it."

"Hmm?" Will looked up, surprised to see Susan staring at him gravely.

"Read it," she repeated, "out-loud."

He cocked one eyebrow higher than the other, setting the plate down on the cloth that they were sitting on. "Why should I?"

"Because I told you to!" She paused, continuing in a softer voice. "Besides, you don't have to do as much work as I do because you're spoiled."

"That's not true," Will retorted, even though he knew it was. Governor Swann definitely favored him, and he was sure that he had asked Margaret to assign him less chores. Still, that didn't mean that he had to do whatever Susan wanted him to.

"Please Will," she pleaded. "Just this once. I am so terrible bored!"

"Why don't you read it to yourself?" He was about to hand the book to her when she shook her head.

"It will be much more interesting if you read it to me. Besides, the sunlight reflecting off of the paper hurts my eyes, and the wind will blow the pages around, and I will get them wet and ruin it."

Will sighed, running a hand over his face. "All right, but you may not find it interesting." He cleared his throat, looking down at the only book that he owned: The Holy Bible.

When he had told Susan about this, she had taken on a look of disgust. "Your mother didn't even give you one of the illustrated ones for babies? She gave you an adult bible?" He was now very surprised that she was asking him to read it aloud to her. Despite this, he began to do so.

"'Then the family heads of Judah and Benjamin, and the priests and Levites - everyone whose heart God have moved - prepared to go up and build the house of the Lord in Jerus'"-

"Will!"

He looked up. Elizabeth was running towards them, tears streaming down her face as she held a limp figure in her arms. He walked over to her, followed by Susan, who would have taken any excuse to stop working.

"What is wrong?" he asked hurriedly, putting one hand on her shoulder.

Her lip wobbled and she broke into another sob. "It's dead!" she finally managed to stutter, moving her arms ever so slightly so that Will could see that she held the lifeless body of a rabbit. "Cook's dogs killed it!"

Susan gently lifted it from her arms, setting it on the ground and observing the wounds. "Well...It shouldn't have gone over to them."

"Susan!" Will's eyes grew wide as Elizabeth started crying even harder, covering her face with her hands.

"What? It shouldn't have. If it had kept to itself it would still be alive." She picked it back up and handed it over to Elizabeth, frowning. "Did you see them do it?"

She nodded, her brown eyes overflowing with tears. "They broke its n-neck. They were going to eat it but I took it away. They bit me." She rubbed her forearm.

"What!" Will cried, taking her arm in his hands and looking at the bite marks. "They don't have...rabies, do they?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Cook treats those dogs like her own children, which means she would have already killed one of them if they were sick."

He grimaced. "How many are there?"

"Three of them, all being cocker spaniels." She wiped her hands off on her apron before untying her bonnet. "What are you going to do with it, Miss Swann?"

"I- I don't know." She sniffed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, the rabbit slumping down between her elbows. "What do you think I should do?"

"Bury it," Will said, as Susan answered; "Give it to Cook and let her make stew out of it."

Elizabeth blanched. "I don't want to let Cook make stew out of it!"

"Then I have to agree with William; bury it, although it will take much longer."

"Where do you want to take it?" Will asked softly, ignoring Susan's blunt outlook.

Elizabeth's lip quivered. "I don't know, just somewhere the dogs won't dig it up again."

"Oh, I have an idea!" Susan cackled devilishly, rubbing her hands together. "Let's bury it under Cook's rosebush, so"-

"Susan." Will shook his head, his lips pursed. "Where do you want to bury it, Elizabeth?"

"Over there." Elizabeth pointed out beyond the servant's quarters. "That way no one will get to it."

"All right." He nodded empathetically. "Do either of you know where we can get a shovel?"

"Margaret has a shovel." Susan crossed her arms. "It's small, but we could use it."

Susan went inside to get it as Will and Elizabeth made their way out into the field, Elizabeth crying softly as Will tried to silently console her. It wasn't long before their companion was back, her cheeks red from running so quickly.

"Who's digging?" Susan looked at Will, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

He sighed, taking the shovel from her and beginning to up-heave the earth. He should have known that Susan wouldn't have wanted to do it. He was convinced that she would do anything to get out of working.

It didn't take him long to dig a hole just deep enough to lay the rabbit in. Susan handed him the body. He was surprised at how limp it was, how it hung in his arms. The glazed eyes, like empty black marbles, reminded him of his mother. Instead of laying it down, he felt his arms give way, watched it fall to the ground and lay still.

"I'll cover it," Susan said meekly, taking the spade and piling the dirt over the body until it became a small mound. She stood, her hands clasped in front of her. "Is anyone going to say anything?" Again, she looked to Will.

"Uh...Rabbit," Will began awkwardly, staring at the mound, "we don't really know how long you lived, or if you had a family or children...or something. We just hope that your life was happy and that you were never hungry...or sick. Amen."

They stood for a moment, the silence only broken by Susan coughing into the back of her hand or Elizabeth sniffling. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable, as if someone was standing and watching them. The hair stood up on the back of his neck and he looked around, relieved to see that no one was there.

Even though he had not lived at the abbey very long, he had been there long enough to see several people die of pneumonia. Since they had all been homeless and had no claim to any land, their bodies had been burnt. Still, he always had an eerie feeling similar to the one that he felt now. Several of the nuns had said that the residue of the soul still lingered. He had always wondered if this was metaphoric.

"Well..." Susan's voice drew him from his thoughts, and he tore his eyes away to look at her. "We should get back to work."

Will nodded, finally finding his voice again. "You're right. We don't have much time to finish."

Still, his feet felt planted to the ground. Susan began to walk back, but Will stayed by Elizabeth, holding her hand. They stood that way until the evening.

TBC...

Okay, the responses:

Jenn1: Yes, poor Will. That will not be the last that we here of that blasted cross.

Coollilyflower: I hope that you liked this chapter. Ugh It took me so long to get it out here!

RoXySuRfEr12: Exactly, I agree with you on the awards totally. They should have taken away one of Selma Hayeck's. She presented 3 times! And Al Pacino's extremely long speech about...about...uh...Oh yeah, I fell asleep lol. Anyway, sorry about how long it took me to update. I hope to update in a few days!

williz: Yeah, I don't like Susan either. She's a brat. And those old gossips...

Please keep reviewing! And I promise to have another update soon.

Romen


	7. Revelations of the Cross

All right, as promised, here is the next chapter. Thank you for the reviews; they mean a lot to me lol. Please keep them coming!

I wanted to get it out here sooner, but there was crisis on my favorite TV show. (Bursts into tears)

Anyway, the responses are at the end of the page.

Please enjoy!

Romen

Disclaimer: Familiar is not mine Unfamiliar is mine muwahahahaha!

Chapter 7

Revelation of the Cross

"Here, I brought these." Elizabeth sat down on the blanket, unrolling a shawl that hid several dried figs. "They're rather sweet, but still good."

"Miss Swann, you are going to get yourself into trouble..." Will's voice trailed off forebodingly.

Elizabeth shrugged, popping one into her mouth. "I don't care. What are they going to do to me?" She stood, brushing herself off. "I have to go speak with my governess, but I will be back soon."

"She has a point, Will." Susan handed him a dish, tucking a loose strand of hair beneath her bonet as Elizabeth walked off. "Besides, it's not that bad."

Will snorted. "I suspect that you are saying this from experience?"

"Of course." She pulled something from her apron pocket and set it down on the sheet. "For instance, Mary's cross."

He gasped. "Susan, you were the one who took it?"

"Who else. Oh, don't look at me like that Will. Mary's a selfish wench; everyone knows that."

"Stealing is wrong."

Susan rolled her eyes. "Please, Will, don't speak to me like an old man!" She suddenly grew serious. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" He didn't answer. "Oh, come, Will, it's not _that_ bad."

"I won't tell anyone," he finally admitted, taking a plate from her. "Why did you take it?" He picked it up, observing it.

"Well, there were several reasons." Susan leaned back, propping herself up with her elbows. "For one, I don't like Mary. She slapped me when no one was looking when I accidentally tripped over her enormous feet. I'm also hoping to sell it to some foolish bloke so I can make some money of my own."

"Why?"

"I want to get away from here someday. I don't want to spend my life as an old spinster and a maid. I want to go back to England."

"Mmm." Will didn't say any more on the matter, and Susan didn't seem to mind, for she quickly changed the subject.

(Later on that day)

"You there! Boy!"

Will turned around. He was at the foot of the stairs, halfway to his room. Mary was coming towards him, her sharp beak-like nose and cold black eyes glittering.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Don't you 'yes ma'am' me!" She grabbed his wrist, her hands cold and rough. "Where's my cross?"

"I don't have it," Will quickly protested, trying to pull away from her.

"Don't you lie to your elders! Where do you have it?"

"I don't have it," he repeated. "Ma'am, if"-

"Come along. If you won't tell me, maybe you'll tell the govenor." She dragged him to the door and out into the night, stomping determinedly towards the mansion.

"Governor?" Will repeated, in shock as they entered the main house. "Please, ma'am, I do not have your cross."

She led him down a hallway, stopping abruptly at the end, knocking on the door.

"Yes?"

"Govenor Swann, I have a matter of importance to speak to you about."

There were a few seconds of earsplitting silence before a, "Come in."

Mary turned the doorknob with suprising speed and threw Will in. He dug his heels in the carpet, stopping himself from falling over as Mary slammed the door behind her.

"Good evening, Govenor Swann, Miss Swann. Look up, boy, stop acting so pitiful. I'm sorry to disturb the both of you on this fine evening, but, as I said before, I have a matter of importance to discuss."

The govenor nodded, his eyes questioning as Elizabeth moved to stand behind his chair, the same look of curiosity on her own face. "Yes, Mary?"

Mary drew herself up proudly. "Well, as you know, I have a very valuable and very sentimental cross that I wear every Sunday to service. It's been passed down from generation to generation in my family. When this- this child arrived, it went missing. Being my normal cheery, sweet-dispositioned self, I wasn't one to jump to conclusions. Even though he used uncooth language and looked rough, I don't judge people in that way. I knew that if he was just treated kindly and given some churching, he would turn out a fine young lad."

"Yes, please, go on." The govenor cleared his throat, shifting in his chair.

"Well, Sarah Whitthouse came up to me today and said, 'Mary, that boy has your cross.'

"And I says, 'Sarah, you shouldn't say things about people that you aren't sure of, especially innocent children. Remember, the Lord sayeth unto you that you have to enter heaven as a child.'

"And she says, 'I know it's true. I saw him with it.'

"I trust Sarah, and I always have. I went to speak with this boy, to try and coax the truth out of him, but he was obstinate, and refuses to hand the cross over."

The govenor cocked one eyebrow higher than the other. "Well, Mary, thank you. I find it hard to believe that our young Mr. Turner would steal, however."

Will looked up hopefully as Elizabeth's father turned his attention to the boy.

"Will, where is the cross?"

Will felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. It took him a moment to gather his wits. "I don't have it!" he finally stuttered. "I never took it!"

The govenor sighed, folding his hands. "Will, if you tell me where it is and why you took it, you will not be punished."

"But I don't have it, and I never stole it." Will felt his face grow hot. "It wasn't me."

"Then who was it?" Mary sneered, thrusting her chin out defiantly.

"I- I don't know, but"-

"Exactly." Her face was now only inches from his. He backed away, his eyes growing wide.

"You may fool others with your lies," she continued, "but I can see right through you, you little lying git!"

"Mary, that is enough." The govenor cleared his throat as the maid backed away. "Will, I am going to ask you one more time: where is the cross?"

"I don't have it," Will repeated, his jaw tense. "I'm not lying."

"Very well then." The govenor stood, walking over to the door. "Until you decide to tell us the truth, you will not eat dinner and will spend your days in your room."

"Father," Elizabeth began in protest, but he interrupted.

"Young Mr. Turner will have to face the consequences of his actions." He opened the door.

"He's getting off easy, if you ask me," Mary muttered to herself. "In my day we would have given him a thrashing for each lie that he told."

Will watched helplessly as the door closed in front of him, feeling very alone.

TBC...

Duh duh duh duuuuh! Responses:

Meowbooks: Ah, thank you, you are right. I'll have to change that some time. :) I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.

RoXySuRfEr12: (Hides behind Susan) I hope that it got here soon enough! LOL I also hope that you liked this chapter. I wanted to get it out here soon but, as I said before, there was crisis on my favorite TV show. Poor, poor Boone...

Jenn1: I really agree with you about good ole' Sue. Don't worry; she'll get hers in the end.

Coollilyflower: LOL I hope that I didn't wait too long! I also hope that you liked this chapter; it was a little hard for me to write.

Please keep up with the reviews; I really like them. :)


	8. Resolved

**a/n:** I truly apologize for this super slow update. I've been really busy lately, so this may be my last update until, let's say, June. But don't worry; I'm not giving up on this story, and hopefully it will be completed sometime this summer! Anyway, thanks for your reviews. Please keep them coming! They mean a lot to me!  
So sorry.

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Anything familiar is not mine. Everything _un_familiar is.

**Chapter 8**

**Resolved**

Susan tapped her foot, crossing her arms as she looked up the stairwell. "Oi, Will; come down! I'm not going to do work for two people today. Will!" She scowled, rolling her eyes and moaning something that sounded like, "Why me?" before heading up the stairs and hurrying through the hall.

The sun hadn't yet risen. She could see the faint blue light coming in through the window at the end of the hall, making her eyes feel heavy. In her opinion, no natural creature should be out of bed before noon. Ignoring these thoughts, however, she knocked promptly on the door adjacent to her own room.

"Wiiiiiiillllllll," she said slowly, her voice drawling on. "Are you asleep?" No answer. 'Well this is quite odd,' she thought to herself, this time knocking a bit louder. "Out of bed. I want to get an early start today so I can have some fun. Will, out of bed! WILL! GET UP!"

Just as she was about to start banging on the wood, the door slowly slid open. She was taken aback at the very disheveled (needless to say, grumpy) looking Will before her. She quickly regained her composure, coughing into the back of her hand.

"Why aren't you dressed?" she snapped. "We need to get a move on."

"I'm not going," he said softly, making as if to shut the door.

"Wait just one second!" She put her hand on the door knob, stopping him from shutting it. "What do you mean, 'you're not going'? It's your job to help me."

"I mean what I say, and I say that I'm not going!" he retorted, pushing forward.

But Susan resisted. "Well _I_ mean what _I_ say, and _I_ say that you are! You have no reason not to help me."

His face twitched. "Get out of the way."

"I'm not moving! You have to help me!"

"Get out of the way!"

"No!"

"Out of the way!"

"NO!"

There was a second of silence before he pushed forward with surprising force, sending Susan flying backwards and the door slamming shut. She stood, straightening her bonnet before marching towards the door and pulling it open with determination, glaring at the shocked boy before her.

"You're in my room!" he exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes. "Ingenious deduction."

"Get out of my room!"

"No," she snarled. "Now you better get down there to help me."

"I could have been...been...This just isn't proper!" he protested.

Susan, for one moment, was distracted from the topic. She bristled. "Elizabeth can come in your room, can't she?"

Will blinked. "Well, yes, but, she's only been in here once or twice and...That's different..."

"There's nothing different about it," Susan snapped.

"Well," he spluttered, his face reddening, "she just doesn't _barge_ in either! At least she has manners!"

"That's not the point!" She crossed her arms, her lip curling. "The point is that you're supposed to help me with the work!"

"I would, but I can't!"

She cocked one eyebrow higher than the other. "What are you talking about?"

Will ran a hand over his face in frustration. "Yesterday...That woman, Mary, she told Governor Swann that I was the one that took the cross."

Susan made a strange choking noise. "Wh-What?"

"She just...took me to Governor Swann and said that I was the one who took the cross."

"And, did he believe you?"

Will paused before shaking his head. "No. So I've been punished."

"Why would they punish you? You weren't the one..." An expression of understanding flashed across Susan's face as it all clicked. "So...you didn't tell them."

"No."

"You idiot!" she cried. "What did you do that for?"

"Me! What do you mean? You should be thanking me!"

"You're such a goody-two-shoes," she sneered. "I know that this probably makes you think that you're all perfect and noble..."

"You're so ungrateful! The least you could say was thank you! I did this to keep you out of trouble! And don't think that it didn't once cross my mind to tell them that it was you..."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop shouting."

"I'm not shouting!" he shouted.

"Whatever. I'm going to go work now, since you're stuck in here. But don't think that I'll keep you out of any trouble or turn myself in so you can leave your room. I'm not stupid, you know."

"I wouldn't have expected you to do anything decent! Perhaps I should just tell them that you were the one who took it!"

She opened the door, whirling around and glaring at him. "I'd like to see you do that, William Turner. I'd like to see you even try."

"Do you always have to have the last word!"

She chewed on that for a second. "Yes." With that said, she slammed the door shut behind her.

(Space)

"How is that coming along, Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth glanced up from her piece of parchment. "Fine, Miss Briggs." She looked back down at what she had written, barely keeping herself from heaving a sigh as her eyes trailed back over to the window.

It was a beautiful day. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. She was used to looking out and seeing Will and Susan on the quilt (probably bickering more than they were actually working), but today neither was in sight. She dipped her pen in the ink well, writing so her governess wouldn't think that she wasn't working.

Helen Briggs had been Elizabeth's tutor for a little over three years now. She adored Miss Briggs, and thought she was very pretty and lady-like, though she was quite the libertine. She was often giving Elizabeth books of all sorts, many of them about famous and infamous pirates, since Elizabeth seemed to have a fascination with them. She had also heard (from the Cook and Mary, of course) that Miss Briggs claimed that she would never marry, thus she would never have any children. Elizabeth thought she was far too lovely to resign herself to the life of a spinster, and hoped that she would eventually change her mind.

Elizabeth, distracted by her thinking, clumsily dropped her pen. She bent down to pick it up, her hand brushing over a loose floorboard. She blinked. This had been one of the places where she had hid Will's medallion before finally settling on the fact that it would be safest in the hidden compartment in her desk. Thinking about it made her flush. She had been foolish to even consider that he was a pirate. It hadn't taken her long to learn of his intense dislike of unlawfulness. However she had heard of pirates who had pretended to be someone else, someone of a respectable stance, while in disguise. Still, it was extremely hard to picture him running around like a rogue, looting and plundering. It was so unlikely that it was almost comical.

Despite this, it was too late to give it back to him now. What would she even say? She could just hear herself now. "I'm sorry, Will, but I took this off of your neck when they brought you onboard because you looked like a pirate." Even in her mind it sounded completely ridiculous. This time a sigh accidentally escaped her lips as she sat up in her chair, leaning back over the surface of the desk.

Miss Briggs took off her small golden spectacles, placing them in her handbag. "I think that this is enough for today, Miss Swann. You have done well."

Elizabeth couldn't help but brighten. "Really? Thank you, Miss Briggs." She stood, pushing her chair in and holding the door open for her governess. "I've been trying to study a bit harder."

The tutor smiled as they traveled down the stairs. She was about to say something when a loud shriek broke the silence.

"Get back here, you little rat! Get back here!"

Susan darted across the floor, stopping abruptly at the foot of the stairs. She held a book close to her chest, her blond hair plastered to her face as if she had been running at a very fast pace for a very long distance. She drew in a shaky breath as the governor entered from the parlor, looking perplexed. At that moment, Mary flew into the room, her hand clutching Susan's shoulder.

"Now I have you, you little lying wench!"

"Please, Mary, explain what is going on here?" He glanced at the girl before looking at the maid.

"She ran off with my very valuable Holy Book! It's been passed from generation to generation..."

"Oh, this is yours?" Susan feigned innocence as she turned around. "I'm sorry ma'am. I mistook it for my own! Let me give it back to you." Suddenly, it slipped from her hands, landing on the floor. Mary let out an inaudible shriek. "Oh, forgive me my clumsy mistake." Elizabeth thought she saw Susan roll her eyes, something she was quite fond of doing.

"You've probably bent the pages! It's ruined, I tell you! It's..." She fell silent as she opened the cover, her hand touching something concealed within the pages. "What...How did this get in there?"

"You found your cross!" Susan exclaimed gleefully. "What a coincidence! It was there all along!"

Mary's eyes narrowed. "You did something. I don't know what you did, but you did something..."

The governor heaved a frustrated sigh. "Please, Mary, I believe the child is correct. It was just a most fortunate coincidence. Besides, now you don't have to worry about its well-being."

"Hmmm..." Mary turned away. "I suppose you're right. Thank you, sir." She hurried off, mumbling to herself as she ran her hand over 'the valuable artifact'.

"Oh, Father!" Elizabeth cried, rushing down to him. "Does that mean that Will isn't in trouble anymore?"

The governor smiled. "Yes, it does. I am most sorry to punish him like this, especially when he was telling the truth all along." He turned to Susan. "I must also thank you for helping us to clear up this matter."

Susan said nothing, but simply curtsied, smiling sweetly.

"May I go tell Will, Father?" Elizabeth pleaded. "May I?"

"Run along."

Elizabeth hurried off, leaving an amused looking Susan in her wake.

**TBC...**

That was fun to write! I wish RL wasn't so busy. Hopefully I will have another chapter out here soon.

Please review!

Romen


	9. Will Relieved

Yey! Yey! Another update. I'm so happy to be able to write on this story. It contrasts so greatly to my other fics right now.

Anyway, thanks for all of the wonderful reviews. I truly enjoy them. Please keep them up!

Enjoy!

Romen

Disclaimer: Here is what I own; Margaret, Cook, Susan, and Mary. Nothing else is mine, kay? Kay.

**Chapter 9**

**Will Relieved**

Will fiddled with the end of his sleeve, trying to ignore the fact that he was hungry. Margaret had brought him some bread for lunch earlier, but that was the only meal that he had eaten that day. He wondered how long he would have to stay there until Susan finally confessed, or the governor decided that he had been punished enough (the latter being most likely). He hoped it wouldn't be...say, two months?

Even worse than that was the fact that Elizabeth probably believed that he had done it, just like her father. Every time he thought of that he felt the pit of his stomach fall out. He scowled, glancing at the small window. The soft evening light that shone through did little to lighten his mood.

The sound of someone pounding up the stairs drew his attention. He groaned. It was probably Susan. Why wouldn't she just leave him alone? He flopped down on his pillows, pretending to be asleep. Hopefully she would go away if she didn't think he was awake.

'Oh no', he thought to himself, sitting up worriedly. 'She might kick me or something, to wake me up.'

A soft knock at the door drew him from his thoughts. He cocked his head to side nervously, wondering if he should say anything.

"Will?" came a soft voice. "Are you awake? It's me, Elizabeth."

"Miss Swann!" he cried, rushing to the door and yanking it open. "Please forgive me of my tardiness; I did not realize it was you."

She laughed. "Oh, no that's fine, really"-

"But you must believe me," he continued hurriedly, not pausing to breathe, "when I say that I did not take the cross. It really wasn't me, you see. I didn't take it and I don't know where it is. I would never steal like that. Never. And I wouldn't lie to your father. I hope that you believe me." He drew in a deep breath.

Elizabeth blinked, a small smile creeping up her face. "Really, Will, you have no need to worry; I believe you. So does my father."

Will couldn't help but gape. "Really?"

"Yes, really! Mary found her precious cross."

He hesitated. "Um...Where was it?"

Elizabeth waved it away. "It was in her bible, though something tells me Susan had something to do with it. Do you want to come down for supper, with my father and I?"

"Yes, yes of course! Let me, let me get ready..."

She nodded. "I'll wait for you in the dining room, all right?"

"Yes, thank you very much, Miss Swann."

As soon as she had shut the door behind her, he scrambled for his chests of drawers, trying to find his best waistcoat. "Where is it, where is it," he murmured to himself, his brow furrowed. He paused. "Wait. I only have one waistcoat!"

"What are you looking for?"

Will stopped abruptly, whirling around. "Susan! Stop coming in my room without any forewarning!"

She rolled her eyes, slumping against the door frame and taking in his room idly. "What are you looking for?" she repeated, not even fazed.

"That's none of your business," he snapped, shutting the drawer embarrassedly. "If you don't mind, I'm...I'm trying to..."

She smiled wryly. "Say it Will."

"Leave. Now." He pushed her through the doorway, shutting the door before going back to his frivolous search for some proper clothes.

"You know," Susan noted thoughtfully, walking back into his room, "you could just wear what you have on."

"Would you please?" he shouted. "I'm trying to CHANGE!"

"Ha!" she cried, doing a small jig. "Ha! Ha! You did it!"

"What, what did I do?" he questioned, frustrated. "What!"

"You said it! Ha! You said it!"

"Stop that! What did I do?"

"I _told_ you to say it, and I _got_ you to say it." She grinned, ceasing her dance and moving towards the door. "Don't worry; I'm really leaving for good now. Enjoy the fine tables of the governor for me, and smuggle me some desert, all right? After all, you owe me one. Without me you wouldn't be eating at all right now. Bye."

Will scowled, slamming the door (and thinking to himself that he should have a lock put on it).

(Space)

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"Did...did you think that I did it?"

Elizabeth let out a deep breath, hesitating. "Of course not," she finally said. "I knew it wasn't you."

"That's good."

"So did you bring Susan anything?"

Will shook his head, suppressing a yawn. "No," he finally managed to say. "She was just joking anyway." 'I think.'

"Oh." Elizabeth fell silent for a moment, looking up at the many shelves in the library, grateful for the small amount of light that the fire provided. She pulled the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders up a little higher, tucking it under her neck. "I thought maybe you brought her a piece of fruit...or something."

"Mmm."

"Will?"

"Mmm?"

"Uh..." She paused. "Have you ever gone...er...riding?"

"Mmm."

"Oh." Was that a yes or a no? She glanced down at his face. It was hidden in the shadows of the dark room. "Will? Are you awake?" No answer. "Will?"

A soft snore erupted from the darkness. She giggled, glancing down at the orange flames fondly. It reminded her of the winter holidays, something she hoped would arrive soon. Of course she knew when they would arrive, but she always wished that they would come earlier. She knew that it wouldn't snow in Port Royal like it snowed at their chateau in London, but family would still come and visit, and there would be celebration and gift exchange. She laid her head upon the arm of the chair, listening to the crackling logs.

Elizabeth usually despised her stay at their mansion in Port Royal. It was lonely and dull, even though she had found ways to keep herself entertained. That didn't mean that she didn't long for companionship with children her own age. She would usually beg her father to allow her to stay in London, where she could perhaps play with her cousins. Now she found herself contented to stay there, and she knew exactly why. Having Will around changed everything. She sighed, her eyes slipping shut as she allowed her mind to wander.

(Space)

"Apparently you did enjoy the governor's tables, maybe a little too much for your own good."

Will started, his eyelids fluttering open to the one thing he did not want to see.

"Susan?"

"The one and only. You best get up, before someone finds you two down here."

"What do you mean?" He pushed himself up into a sitting position, taking in their surroundings. "Where am I?"

"The library. Are you blind, or something? Now come, hurry. You don't want anyone to find you here with Miss Swann." She cackled. "It would be so scandalous!"

"Huh?" He ran one hand over his face, yawning. "What do you mean? Ow!"

Susan had just slapped him sharply on the back of the head. "Wake up, Will! Are you awake? Or are you still sleeping?"

"What was that for?" he exclaimed, standing and shooting her a glare.

She smiled. "Good. You're awake. Now hurry back to the servant's quarters."

He glanced over at Elizabeth. She was fast asleep in the arm chair across from the bench he had been dozing on. "We can't leave her here," he said softly. "She looks...cold."

Susan rolled her eyes. "Then what do you propose we do? Light the mansion on fire so she won't freeze?"

He ignored her sarcasm. "Look; she's shivering. Do you see it? Her shoulder is moving ever so slightly..."

"Or maybe you're just seeing things!" She grabbed his hand. "Come on, we have to leave! You're going to get in trouble!"

He pulled away from her, kneeling down next to Elizabeth. "Miss Swann?" he said softly. "Miss Swann, you need to wake up."

Elizabeth made a small whiney sound, covering her ear with the blanket. He took her hand, gently pulling the blanket down.

"Miss Swann, please, you must get to your room."

"No..."

"Miss Swann, it is late. You cannot stay here."

"Up, Miss Swann!" Susan suddenly appeared, pulling Elizabeth roughly to her feet. "We don't have time to waste!"

Her brown eyes flew open as she stumbled forward, nearly running into Will, who had moved of the way just in time. He glared at Susan, who didn't seem to notice. She was wringing her hands nervously, hopping from foot to foot in her nightgown. He'd never seen her like this before. It was a bit disconcerting, actually.

"We have to hurry," she hissed, gesturing for them to follow her. "If anyone finds us here, at this hour, we'll be in trouble."

Elizabeth and Will glanced at each other before silently obeying her (it was _really_ disconcerting, truth be told). They stealthily made their way through the halls; Elizabeth toward her room, and Will and Susan toward the servants quarters. Only when they had reached the quarters was Susan back to her normal self.

"You idiot," she snarled as soon as they crossed the threshold. "What did you think you were doing? If you were trying to break a few rules you can't be stupid about it."

"When did falling asleep become a crime?" he retorted. "And besides, when did you become so worried about me?"

She snorted, rolling her eyes, making for the stairwell. "That's hilarious. Me, worried about you? That's the most imbecilic thing I have ever heard in my entire life!"

"No, I'm serious. What other reason would you have for going to wake me if you weren't worried about me?"

She stopped at the foot of the stairs, hesitating. "Well...it's just that, what I did today..."

Will frowned. "What about it?"

She pitted on her heel, looking down at her hands. "It's just, you know, what I did..." She paused, glancing up at him. "I could have been caught when I did that. I didn't want the risk I took to be in vain, that's all."

"So...what you did today, you did for me? Is that what you're saying?"

"I don't have time for stupid questions like this. Good-night."

"No, wait, I'm serious. Susan. Susan! What did you mean?"

"Good-night, Will. Oh yes. Here's your waistcoat." She tossed it down the stairs. "I didn't think you'd want your only one to go to waste in the library, gathering dust."

"No, Susan, wait!" He followed her up the stairs breathlessly, trying to tread softly as to not wake anyone. "What did you mean?"

"What did I mean about what?"

"Stop." He intercepted her just as she stepped towards her door. "Tell me what you meant."

She blinked before shrugging nonchalantly and lightly crossing her arms. "I just wanted to make sure that what I did today wasn't for nothing."

A smile slowly crept up Will's face. "So you did do it for me! I knew it!"

She rolled her eyes. "What? That you're not in London anymore?"

"You do care about me," he continued, choosing to ignore her comment. "I always knew you did."

"I don't care about you."

"You do, and you actually felt guilty about what you did," he insisted. "You didn't want me to be punished for something I didn't do."

"Stop being ridiculous," she scoffed. "The only reason I did this was because I didn't want to hear you complain and give me all that garbage about doing the right thing. I wasn't worried about you at all. Now get out of way." She shoved him aside. "Good-night, Will."

Before Will could say anything, she had already closed the door on him.

TBC...


	10. Miss Swann is Smitten

**a/n**: I really wanted to update a few days ago, but it seemed that the site was having some problems. Fortunately it was back up today.

Anyway, please keep up with your wonderful reviews; they mean a lot to me!

And, as always, please enjoy.

Romen

**Disclaimer**: see previous chapters

**Chapter Ten**

**Miss Swann is Smitten**

"Miss Swann? What are you doing?"

Elizabeth looked up, breaking into a grin. She ran out into the hall, grabbing his hand. "Will, come, you really must taste this when we've finished, and tell us what you think..."

Will blinked in confusion as she led him into the kitchen. Margaret was bent over a recipe book, one finger on her chin thoughtfully.

"What are you doing?" Will repeated, peering over Elizabeth's shoulder.

Elizabeth heaved a small sigh. "Father thinks that I'm spending too much time at my studies, and not practicing enough 'lady-like' activities, so he assigned me to baking a cake for a friend who's visiting in a few days."

Will cocked one eyebrow higher than the other, watching as Margaret began pulling various utensils out of cabinets. "A friend?"

Elizabeth looked away, her cheeks tinged a bright pink. "Well, yes...We've been friends for quite some time. He lives in Port Royal too, you know. His father is very good friends with my father, so we've known each other since we were little."

"Oh really." He did his best to sound enthusiastic as he glanced over at the recipe. "Have you ever made this before?"

She chuckled nervously, rubbing her elbow. "Now that you mention it, no. That's why I thought it would be better if we made a practice one first, and have someone taste it."

"And that someone...is me?"

"Erm...Exactly!" She grabbed his shoulder, her face falling. "Please Will, please, we need someone to taste it for us, and no one else will." She paused. "Besides, it can't be that bad. Margaret is an excellent cook, I'm sure you know, and I've made other things that are similar to this in the past. Please, Will! Please?"

He hesitated. "All right..."

"Oh, thank you Will!" she cried, pushing him down on a stool. "You don't know how grateful I am!"

He chewed on his lip. "Why don't you taste it yourselves?"

She cheerily waved him away. "It wouldn't be half as fun! And we do very much need feedback."

"Yes, well..." He watched as Elizabeth began to add the ingredients to the mixing bowl. "So this...friend."

She didn't look up from the task at hand. "Mmm-hmm, I suspect you mean James?"

"This 'James'...What is he like?"

"Well, he's very intelligent," she began slowly, measuring out sugar. "He's surpassed many people our age in his studies."

"Here, Will." Margaret set a small tray with nuts in front of Will, along with a large spoon. "Would you mind crushing these for us?"

"Sure." He took the ladle, his eyes still on Elizabeth.

"He's also _very_ athletic," Elizabeth continued promptly. "He's very good at riding; when we visit his manor in London or his villa in France, he always insists that we ride together."

"He has a villa in France?" Will swallowed.

She giggled. "Yes, it's very beautiful! The furnishing, the balconies...Oh, and the vineyards! They're wonderful to stroll through in spring, as are the gardens! The flowers are so lovely...But where was I...

"Oh yes! He's also very skilled on the harpsichord. He's very passionate about his music; he's composed a few pieces himself. He is constantly saying that I could compose something for my violin if I tried, but I don't think I could, at least nothing as magnificent as his pieces. I just don't have the talent, I'm sure you know what I mean..."

'Not really,' Will, who played no musical instruments, thought to himself, concentrating hard on grinding the nuts.

"...and is always talking about it. He's also fluent in French, German, Spanish, and Latin. Languages come easy to...Will?"

"Huh?" He raised the ladle. He had grinded the left section of the nuts until there was nothing left but a thin, light, powder. He laughed shakily. "Oh, sorry...I suppose I just got carried away..."

"Don't worry, nothing is wrong." Elizabeth cocked her head to the side, an expression of puzzlement on her face. She took the tray from him, glancing at him sideways. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, attempting a smile but failing horribly. "Yes, I'm fine." Actually, he felt quite the opposite. He felt like hitting something.

"Try the icing!" She handed him a spoon. "Margaret made it herself."

He took a small taste. "This is very good- ow!"

"Oh, sorry," Susan apologized, smiling innocently. "I didn't mean to hit you in the head with the bucket." She raised it for emphasis.

Will shot her a glare as she crossed into the hallway, whistling. He was starting to think that the whole incident with the cross was just a fluke...

"She doesn't mean to be rude," Margaret said quickly, pouring the batter into the pan. "It's just her way of showing affection."

He scowled. "Pardon my saying so, but I can't imagine her being affectionate toward anyone."

Margaret laughed, pausing with one hand on her hip. "Yes, she's always been that way. At least ever since I've known her."

Elizabeth arched one eyebrow. "What? But I thought..."

"I'm not her real mother," she explained. "I found Susan on the streets when she was five. Her parents had died, and she had been in a bad situation. She ran away from home. I took her in, and when I came out here, I brought her along."

Will adverted his eyes as Margaret placed the cake in the stove. He had never imagined Susan having any kind of a painful past...

Some time later, the cake was finished baking. Margaret iced it, sprinkling the nuts across the surface.

Elizabeth cut him a slice, shrugging. "At least it smells good!"

Will took a bite, nodding. "This is very good, Elizabeth."

She bit her lip. "Really? You're not just saying that?"

"Really! I'm eating it, aren't I?" He swallowed. "Really, Elizabeth, it's delicious."

She glowed. "Thank you! I hope James likes it too!"

Will suddenly didn't feel as hungry. He set his fork down. "I better get back to work. Thank you, Miss Swann, it was very good."

He hurried from the kitchen before they could say anything else, his ears feeling unusually hot.

**TBC...**

Small sigh Poor Will...

Reviews! Reviews!


	11. James

**a/n**: Okay, I'm back with another chapter, and review responses! As usual, they are at the end of the chapter. I hope you all enjoy (and review)!

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Familiar; not mine. Unfamiliar; mine.

**Chapter Eleven**

**James**

Over the next few days it seemed that the only thing Elizabeth could talk about was James. In fact, Will felt like he knew James just as well as she did. The only difference was he didn't like what he heard, for some strange reason. Perhaps it was the fact that everything Elizabeth saw, however outrageous it was, somehow reminded her of James.

"Oh, James has always been very skilled when it comes to that area!"

"Really, James would _never_ do a thing like that."

"That reminds me of the time I went an on outing with James."

"Did I tell you about the art in James's manor? Will, it's truly astounding!"

"James has always been interested in that author's work."

And yet she claimed that they would get along 'just fine'.

When the day finally came when James was due to arrive, Will couldn't help but feel relieved. Elizabeth was probably just very excited about seeing her friend again, and would most likely calm down now that he was going to be there. After all, the only reason that she probably obsessively thought of him was because of her anticipation for his arrival. And who knew; maybe they would get along, just as she claimed. Will was sure that if anyone was a friend of Elizabeth's, they could be a friend of his as well.

Even if they spoke four languages, owned a villa in France, and were prodigies.

Trying to push all of this to the back of his mind, Will went downstairs to do the dishes with Susan, who was her usual snappy self. They finished quite early. Afterward he went to find Elizabeth, who was nervously pacing the parlor back and forth, dressed in her Sunday best.

"Oh, Will!" she cried when she saw him, her eyes wide. "He's going to be here at any minute! How do I look?"

"You look...very good," he replied, not sure of what to say.

She gave a shriek. "Oh no! What am I to do?"

Will flinched, realizing he had just made a crucial mistake. "No, um, I mean, you look very beautiful."

"Now you're just lying," she exclaimed, sounding tearful.

"Miss Swann, please, I am completely sincere."

She sniffed. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

She ran her hands over the skirt, as if smoothing out invisible wrinkles. "I suppose this will have to do as it is. James says he likes this color, and that it looks good on me."

Will had to fight back the urge to tell her she looked horrible, even though she didn't.

"It's his favorite color, actually." She chewed on her lip as her hands nervously wrung a small scarf. "I do hope he notices that I wore his favorite color."

Apparently James fancied a light, baby-powder blue...

"My favorite color is," Will murmured, but he was cut short as Elizabeth let out a loud shout, rushing to the parlor window.

"Will, oh Will! He's here!" She rushed past him like a whirlwind, only to return and drag him into the entrance hall. She once again smoothed her skirt, tucking two loose strands of hair behind her ear and clasping her hands in front of her. The governor appeared not long after. Will suddenly felt very awkward.

The doorbell rang (as if they all didn't know that they were already there), and the butler shortly answered it. A tall, lean, dark-haired man strode through, immediately shaking hands with the governor. Behind him came almost a miniature version of himself, except with fine, wispy blond hair and soft, blue eyes (the same color as Elizabeth's dress, Will noted with a shiver).

"Lizzy." The boy rushed across the floor. He kissed her hand lightly. Elizabeth flushed.

"Oh, James, it's so wonderful to have you here! It seems like it's been so long..."

James smiled. "One year, three months, one week, four days."

Will gaped.

It seemed that was the first moment that he noticed Will. He looked taken aback, then understanding flashed across his face. "Ah, new household staff! There, why don't you make yourself useful and help carry up my trunk? There's a good lad."

Will blinked. He was speechless. He cleared his throat, his face feeling very warm. "Uh...I- I'm"-

Elizabeth seemed mortified. "Oh no, James, he's not part of the staff." She took one of their hands in either of hers. "This is my friend, William Turner."

James scrutinized him with obvious distaste. "Oh really. Forgive me, _William_, of my mistake. You greatly resemble the common staff." He loosely took Will's hand, grasping it with the tip of his fingers, as if afraid the very touch of him would somehow soil his skin. "Pleased to - er - meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," Will mumbled, pulling roughly from his grip.

There was a beat of awkward silence before Elizabeth took charge. "Really, I'm sure you two will get along just fine. You certainly do have...a lot in common." She looked pleadingly at Will, as if asking him silently not to embarrass her. "Come, let us sit in the library and chat."

Will followed them up the staircase like a gaudy mutt follows two exuberant purebreds. Compared to James he was nothing. James moved, spoke, even breathed with the air of an English gentlemen. For the first time in his life, Will longed to sit on the sheet and do the dishes with Susan. After all, it wasn't like he was going to take part in any of their conversations. Most likely they would debate on intellectual matters. He would just sit there like a mindless fool, their amusement when the subject would die until they could find another topic.

By the time they finally reached the library, Will felt like he was on a cliff, walking dangerously near the edge, waiting to be pushed off. He took a seat on the bench next to Elizabeth, as James sat in the chair that she had fallen asleep in the just the other night.

"Oh Lizzy," James breathed, as if wearied from thought, "it has been so long that I don't even know where to begin." He leaned back. "Mr. Turner, tell me, where is it you originate from? You are certainly not a native of Port Royal."

Will shifted uncomfortably. "I come from England."

"Mm-hm." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And what countries have you been to, Mr. Turner? Port Royal is quite far from Britain, so you must have done some traveling in your time."

"I..." Will paused. "I've never really traveled outside of the country before."

"Is that so." It was a statement, not a question. James frowned. "Where did you live in England? I've never heard of the name 'Turner' before."

"I lived in the city."

"Ah, that makes much more sense." He turned his attention to Elizabeth. "So tell me, Lizzy, darling; what have you been up to lately?" He smiled rather cheekily.

The discussion from then on was mainly over trivial matters experienced by both James and Elizabeth. Will was thankful that James was no longer picking him for answers, but he found himself feeling very excluded. He was just about to excuse himself when James interrupted.

"Why don't we go down to the stables?" he suggested. "Perhaps we could take a small ride."

"But Miss Swann is not allowed to ride," Will couldn't help but protest.

Elizabeth smiled gently. "I'm allowed to ride when James is here."

James nodded. "We always ride here."

Knowing that it wasn't up to him anyhow, he reluctantly followed them to the stables. They headed to the very back, where James affectionately rubbed a chestnut on the nose. In return the horse nuzzled him back.

"It's so good to see Jacques again. I always ride him," he explained to Will.

"Good for you," Will muttered under his breath, earning him a frantic glare from Elizabeth.

The stable-hands brought Jacques and a roan out, saddled and bridled. Even though he really hadn't been looking forward to riding, Will couldn't help but feel resentment. He obviously wasn't being invited. Elizabeth must have noticed.

"Oh, Will!" she chuckled. "Don't worry; the roan is for you."

He frowned. "What about you?"

"Lizzy and I always ride together!" James quipped, already mounted.

Will watched gloomily as a stable-hand helped her mount. She sat side-saddle, glancing at Will quizzically.

"Are you not coming?"

Will glanced at the roan, who seemed about just as fond of Will as Will was of him. 'I am going to die,' he thought to himself, clumsily mounting and wrapping his arms around the roan's neck fearfully.

He had ridden before, of course. In fact, several times (enough to know how to). However, none of them had been very pleasant, and they were memories that he would rather not recall. He gulped, looking at the distance between him and the ground.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Elizabeth said graciously, as James led the horse nearer him.

However, the sight of them on the horse together, her dress the exact same color of James's eyes, was just too much. He feigned courage and grinned.

"Don't worry, I'm looking forward to coming." He leaned forward, his mouth next to the horse's ear. "Please, please, don't kick me off," he hissed. "Please."

The roan snorted in response, taking off at a speedy trot without any command whatsoever from Will.

They continued in that direction at the same speed for quite some time, Will and the roan trailing along behind what seemed to be a very familiar path. Every so often he would hear James and Elizabeth break into laughter, something that would cause him to scowl. He was beginning to wonder how much longer they would go on when Jacques stopped abruptly. Elizabeth and James slid from the saddle. Will followed suit, though not half as gracefully.

"What are you doing?" he asked, leading the roan over to them.

James was unbuckling the saddle. He shook his head. "William, if you don't mind me calling you that, we are going to ride bareback, like we usually do."

"You see, Will, Father doesn't like when I ride alone, but as long as I ride with James, it's all right," Elizabeth explained earnestly. "We ride bareback when no one can see us, because Father wouldn't be very happy about that."

James tucked the saddle behind a bush. "Really though, this is something that we just like to do. We're not pressuring you to follow suit. Pardon my saying so, but you do look very uncomfortable upon a horse."

Will's ears roared. He stood still for a moment, his eyes going from Elizabeth, to James, and then back to Elizabeth again before he pitted on his heel and began to fiddle with straps on his own saddle.

"Will, what are you doing?" Elizabeth questioned cautiously.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he grunted, his hands sweaty as they slipped across a strap.

He somehow managed to unbuckle the saddle, flinging it aside as he struggled to mount. When he finally did, he wished he would have stayed on the ground. It was the most uncomfortable position he had ever been in his entire life. He gripped the reins of the bridle tightly, hoping his discomfort didn't show.

Jacques pranced over, James already upon his back, Elizabeth behind him. He smirked.

"Well done, Mr. Turner, well done." He looked ahead. "I propose we have a little race. What say you?"

Elizabeth gasped. "Oh no, James, I don't think we should..."

"Come, come, Lizzy; I'm sure Mr. Turner wouldn't mind a little healthy competition, if you can even call it that." His eyes flashed.

Will chewed on his lip. "Yes."

James grinned. "Very good! Now, Lizzy, you don't have to race if you don't want to."

"No, I want to," she assured him, looking doubtfully at Will. "But I don't think this is a very wise idea..."

"Have no fear, Lizzy; Mr. Turner can take care of himself. Now, on my mark, set, go."

They shot off. Will clung to the roan, having a hard time controlling it bareback. Elizabeth's skirts billowed out behind her, her chin tucked firmly over James's shoulder. Her arms were wrapped securely around his waist. It looked like she was cuddling with him...

Will suddenly remembered that he was on horseback. He pulled the reins sharply to the left, the roan nearly avoiding a deep dip in the ground. However, the horse changed direction so abruptly that Will had no time to prepare himself. He tumbled over the side, his back making impact with the ground.

"Will!" Elizabeth shrieked. She slid to the ground just as James pulled Jacques to a halt, rushing over. She knelt next to him, her brow netted. "Will, are you all right?"

"Yes," he answered dazedly. He began to rise, but she pushed him back down.

"Did you- did you break anything?" she stuttered, pressing gently on his ribs, as if feeling for broken bones. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, Miss Swann, I am fine."

She hit him roughly in the shoulder. "Never do that again! You could have broken your neck!"

Will cringed. "Forgive me, Miss Swann, I did not do it on purpose..."

She helped him sit up. "Really, Will, please do try to be more careful."

He looked down at his fist. "Thank you, Miss Swann."

"What happened?" James asked breathlessly, skidding to a halt behind Elizabeth.

"Will fell off of his horse."

James shrugged. "No harm done, it seems."

"No harm done!" Elizabeth cried, horrified. "We have to get him home, right away!"

"Miss Swann, really, I assure you, I'm fine."

"No, no- You might have hit your head! You really should rest."

Will caught a sheepish glance at James, who looked rather annoyed.

**TBC...**

**a/n**: Reviews for this extra long chappy, please.

The responses:

**Jenn 1**: Thanks; I try lol.

**RoXySuRfEr12**: Heheheh; Isn't too hard to tell, is it?

**Williz**: You're right; James is rather annoying...

**lateBloomer04**: Actually, James is an original character. I don't know if Norrington's first name is 'James' too, but James is just some friend of Elizabeth's. I'm not that big of a fan of the commodore either lol.


	12. Tom

**a/n**: Hey all, I'm back with the next chapter. It's a bit late here, but I wanted to update on at least one of my stories before I go out of town tomorrow (again!). Please review (as usual lol), and enjoy.

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 12**

**Tom**

Elizabeth insisted that they take Will back to the servant's quarters. Once there, she immediately sought after Margaret, telling her the accident that caused Will to fall off of the horse, leaving out the part that they were bareback. She advised that he stay in bed for a while, so Elizabeth marched him up the stairs and he had remained there ever since without any company, not even Susan (despite the fact that he was perfectly fine, except that he was sore and bruised...).

When evening diminished into night, Will, driven by hunger, finally dared to traverse down the stairs. The building was quiet. In fact, for a moment he thought it was empty. He wandered into the entrance, yawning and going over to pick at a loaf of bread sitting on the table.

"Naughty, naughty, Will."

Susan emerged from the corner, her bonnet hanging from her arm by its straps. "You wouldn't want to spoil your supper."

Will ignored her, pulling off a chunk and popping it into his mouth. "Do you have to comment on everything I do?" he asked when he had finished chewing.

She snorted. "Please. I was just trying to keep you away from it. It's not yours."

"Oh really? Then who does this belong to?" He rolled his eyes. For some reason he felt extremely irritable.

At that moment the door opened. A boy that Will had never seen before stood in the frame. He had sandy blond hair and ruddy tanned skin, his nose splattered with freckles. He frowned.

"That's mine, you know," he said wryly, gesturing toward the bread with a nod of his head. He shrugged, shutting the door behind him and sitting down on a chair, running one dirty hand over his face. "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. Have as much as you like."

"Oh, sorry," Will apologized, wrapping the bread in the handkerchief it came in. "I didn't know it was yours."

"Like I said, don't worry about it." He held out his hand. "My name's Tom. I don't think I've met you before."

Will shook it. "Will Turner. I haven't been here for very long."

"Ugh, Tom, wash your hands." Susan tossed him a wet rag. "If you get dirt all over the table everyone is going to insinuate that it was me."

Tom took it from her, tilting his head back thoughtfully. "So, Will, what do you do around here? I help my father garden sometimes. He's getting up there, if you know what I mean."

Will leaned his elbows against the table. "I do simple chores, basically."

"Unfortunately it's with me," Susan interjected, making a face.

Tom patted him on the arm. "Poor you."

Susan punched him in the shoulder in a most un-playful way. "Watch what you're saying."

He grimaced. "Er...That's not what I meant. Anyway, Susan, thanks for making the bread."

"You're not welcome. I slaved away over the stove for hours to make that blasted thing. You better eat it and not let it go to waste."

Tom poked at it. "That depends on whether it's edible or not."

Will couldn't help but feel a small tug of curiosity. "Why did she have to make it for you?"

"She lost a bet," Tom replied, leaning back in his chair. "She didn't have enough money to pay me back, so I proposed that she do this instead."

The sound of the door opening drew their attention. Elizabeth entered, a tray in her hands.

"Will!" she exclaimed, setting the tray on the table and hurrying over to him. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Miss Swann," he answered truthfully as she shoved him down onto a chair.

"Here, I brought you something to eat." She took the lid off of the tray to reveal a glass of milk, a slice of ham, a dinner roll, and a small bowl of soup, all of which was still warm, with a square of butter. There was also a square of her cake and an apple. "I know it isn't much," she continued, wringing her hands fretfully, "but it was the least I could do after what happened today."

He looked down at it all sheepishly. "Thank you, Miss Swann, but really, I can't accept all of this..."

"No, Will, I'm serious. It truly is the least that I can do."

He didn't need to be told twice. He was starving; the only meal he had eaten that day had been a light breakfast. He made his way through the ham, drank the soup and the milk, and ate the roll along with the butter before beginning on the cake.

"This is very good, Miss Swann," he muttered between a bite.

She smiled. "Thank you, and thanks for trying it a few days ago."

"Really, it was no trouble at all." He swallowed, pausing. "Has James tried it yet?" His eyes searched her face for a sign of reaction.

She brightened visibly at the mention of his name, her cheeks turning rosy. "Yes, he has. He said it was superb! I hope he was telling the truth, but I really think he was, because he went back for seconds, and he said it in German, which means he must have liked it. Don't you think he really liked it?"

"Mmm-hmm." He jabbed at the cake sharply.

"However he did say that he preferred chocolate," she continued, "and would have rather had that instead, but that this was good as well. He asked me to bake one for him when he leaves, so he can take it back home and show the chefs. I do hope he wasn't humoring me."

"Well thank you very much, Miss Swann," he interrupted hastily, setting down his fork after he had devoured the last crumb. "It was all very delicious. You didn't have to go through much trouble to bring it to me, did you?"

She shook her head. "No, none at all. I suppose that the hardest thing to get was the soup, but I just took James's, since he hadn't eaten his."

Will glanced down at the empty bowl contemptibly, wishing he hadn't drank any.

"Anyway, I should be going. Please take care, Will." She stood still for a moment, as if hesitating, before wrapping her arms around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze and hurrying out the door.

Will sat for a second before lying his head down on the table and heaving a weary sigh.

Tom grinned. "I knew it."

Will's eyes roved around to his face. "Knew what?"

He crossed his arms. "You're jealous."

"I'm what?"

"You're jealous!" Tom insisted, his grin growing even wider. "I knew it ever since I saw you at the stables..."

Will rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. Wait, you saw me at the stables?"

Tom waved it away impatiently. "Yes, I was sweeping up in the back when they brought the horses out. I caught a few glimpses of you all. Still, I didn't know that you were _this_ jealous."

"Jealous of who?"

"Of James!"

Susan elbowed Will sharply in the side as she sat down in the chair next to him. "Oops, sorry. Do you mind if I have the apple?"

"Take it," Will grunted, yawning. He turned his attention back to Tom. "I am not jealous of James."

Tom laughed. "Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not." He pushed himself into a sitting position, massaging his temples. "I don't have any reason to be jealous of him."

Tom snorted. "Really? The fact that he's filthy rich might be one reason, or that he speaks fifteen languages..."

"He only speaks four," Will snapped, shooting him a glare.

"Aha! See what I mean?" Tom cried, standing. "You're jealous because Elizabeth fancies _him_ instead of _you_!"

Will flushed. "Stop being ridiculous..."

Tom gave him a pat on the back. "Don't worry. James is only going to be here for a few more days, and when he leaves, Elizabeth will have forgotten all about him."

'Whatever,' Will thought to himself in bed that night, hitting his pillow a bit harder than he meant to as he attempted to buff it. 'He makes it sound like I'm smitten for Elizabeth or something. That can't be true. It isn't true.'

James was just annoying.

**TBC...**

a/n: Sorry, I didn't get to respond to reviews, but please keep them up! I appreciate every single one of them, and enjoy reading them!

Romen


	13. Bad Luck

**a/n**: Okay, I'm back with the next chapter. Please keep up with your wonderful reviews; they mean a lot to me!

And, as always, please enjoy.

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 13**

**Bad Luck**

The next morning Will woke later than he should have. He dressed hurriedly, sloppily tucking his shirt in as he ran down the stairs, bursting into the sunlit day and looking around wildly for Susan. It wasn't long until he spotted her. She was sitting on the sheet, her brow furrowed as she dried one of the dishes.

"Susan, I am so sorry," Will exclaimed breathlessly, sitting down next to her. "I accidentally slept in this morning."

Susan glared at him, folding her arms against her chest. "That better be the last time, Will. I haven't gotten much done by myself. For that you're going to have to take washing duty."

He didn't argue. Susan seemed quite flustered herself, and he wondered if she had met James that morning. Those two would most likely not get along, he mused to himself as he sloshed around in the bucket. He imagined them locked in a room together for hours; however, he would never want to wish James upon anyone, not even Susan...

Really, Susan could be tolerated. You just couldn't take anything she said offensively, which at times was easier said than done. James was a different matter. He was like a fly that you kept swatting at that always seemed to bite you. He was like the sound of fingernails running across a blackboard. He was like a leak in the roof through which small raindrops would squeeze through, dropping on your nose just as you were about to fall asleep.

Will was still thinking of different similes when Tom plopped down on the sheet next to him.

"Hello," he said cheerily, leaning back on his elbows. "How's the day going?"

"Good," Susan snapped, "at least until you showed up."

Tom frowned. "Me too, but then I decided to come over here. Anyway, Will, do you know where I can find a spare shovel?"

Will was just about to reply when the sound of laughter caught his attention. He looked up.

Elizabeth, once again wearing a light blue dress, was crossing the lawn, a parasol overhead, arm in arm with none other than James. Will scowled, ducking his head and furiously scrubbing the plate. Hopefully they wouldn't notice him and would just continue on their way.

His luck was never that good.

"Hello, Mr. Turner," James greeted him dolefully, observing the silverware with obvious amusement. "Is this not a fine day?"

"Brilliant," Will mumbled, roughly shoving the plate in Susan's direction.

"Lizzy and I were just playing a duet together."

"Oh really."

"Yes, Lizzy played so wonderfully." He smiled at her fondly. "Really, you should compose something."

Elizabeth adverted her eyes, giggling. "Oh, no, James, I just don't have your talent..."

"If you put your mind to it, I know that you could do it."

_'He's also very skilled on the harpsichord. He's very passionate about his music; he's composed a few pieces himself. He is constantly saying that I could compose something for my violin if I tried, but I don't think I could, at least nothing as magnificent as his pieces. I just don't have the talent, I'm sure you know what I mean...'_

Will's brow furrowed as he threw several pieces of silverware into the bucket, causing some water to splash over the sides and Elizabeth and James to step backward.

James cleared his throat. "I shall be back in a moment, Lizzy. Father insists that I converse in Latin with him at least an hour everyday." He hurried inside, leaving Elizabeth standing in front of the sheet, twirling the parasol.

Elizabeth watched as Will thrust another plate at Susan. She crouched down in front of him.

"So what do you think of him?"

Will didn't look up. "What do I think of who?"

"Of James."

He shrugged. "He's all right...I guess."

She grew silent, chewing on her lower lip. "My birthday is coming up in a few days." She paused, as if waiting for a response. When none came, she continued. "Father is going to hold a gala here. There is going to be dancing."

Will's face twitched. "How wonderfully splendid for you."

She frowned. "Why are you acting like that?"

"Acting like what?"

"You're acting so, so- surly."

"I am _not_ acting surly," he protested.

"Yes, you are!" Elizabeth insisted. "You've been acting oddly for the past several days."

"I am not being surly!" he repeated, a bit louder than he meant to.

"Yes, you have been! Will, what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on! Unless you count the fact that the only thing you can talk about is James, who is so _perfect_..."

She scoffed. "That's not true..."

"Oh really? Then who said 'James can do _this_,' and 'James can do _that_', and 'James is so _wonderful_'..."

Tom and Susan cast each other a wary glance.

"Just because I don't speak four languages or have houses all over the world doesn't mean I don't have feelings," Will continued darkly. "Don't think that I'm going to take it when you come down here bragging about some celebration you're having when I'm not even going to be invited..."

Elizabeth stood jerkily, her voice sounding rather high. "Actually, I _was_ going to invite you, William Turner, but I don't know about that now." She pitted on her heel, storming away.

Will stared at her diminishing back, his face slowly reddening. "It's not fair!" he finally burst out. "James can get by with anything, but she's always _picking_ at me..."

Susan rolled her eyes. "Stop whining."

"I am not whining!" He shot her a glare. "I'm just sick of hearing about James."

"Well you went about the wrong way of telling her," Tom replied smoothly, running one hand through his hair.

"As I much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point," Susan agreed.

"Then what should I have said, Susan? What's your advice, since you seem to know everything as it is?"

Susan bristled. "In case you haven't noticed, Will, I happen to be a girl. You may not think of me as one, but I am. I might have some insight into the female mind that you don't have. But if you're not willing to listen, then that's not my problem." She stood, slamming the door to the servant's quarters behind her.

"Are you going to get mad at me too?" Will asked Tom sharply.

Tom poorly fought back a grin. "No," he finally managed to say, sitting up. "Frankly, I agree with you. But you were a little ridiculous."

Will heaved a sigh. "I'm so daft," he exclaimed ruefully, scrubbing a dish. "You should have hit me or something."

"Don't fret." Tom gave him a hearty slap on the back. "She's not really upset with you. Before you know it you'll be invited to the gala."

(Space)

That evening Tom helped Will carry the dishes back into the kitchen, since Will hadn't seen Susan ever since she had ran off. They set it down on the table, preparing to leave.

"Will."

He turned around, flushing. "Miss Swann," he said quickly, hurrying over. "Please forgive me for my previous behavior today."

She smiled weakly. "Don't worry, I'm not angry. I overreacted as it is."

"No, really, it is I who overreacted."

She wrung her hands, shifting her weight. "Anyway, I just wanted to inform you that the invitation is still open, and I would be honored if you could attend."

Will blinked in amazement. It took him a while to find his voice. "Y-Yes," he eventually stuttered, nodding. "I- I would be honored to accept."

Elizabeth grinned. "I look forward to seeing you there."

"I as well, Miss Swann. Thank you."

"See what I mean!" Tom cried once she had left.

Will's look of sudden relief was slowly fading away. In fact, he looked a bit pale. He swallowed. "Uh-huh..."

"I think this is the first time that anyone from the servant's quarters has actually been invited to a celebration like this," he went on thoughtfully.

"Oh."

Tom frowned. "What's the matter? Aren't you happy?"

Will bit his lip. "It's just..."

Tom leaned forward. "What?"

"I can't dance."

**TBC...**


	14. Aprender Bailar

**a/n**: I have responses! Please keep up with the reviews, I truly enjoy them.

Enjoy!  
Romen

**Disclaimer**: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 14**

**Aprender Bailar**

Tom snorted.

"It's not funny!" Will snapped defensively, stepping outside.

"I'm sorry; you're right." Tom followed behind him. "I mean, a lot of people can't dance." He paused. "Still, the look on your face..."

"You wouldn't think it was very funny if you were in my situation." Will let out a deep breath, his hands in his pockets. "What am I going to do?"

"You must be able to dance a little."

Will looked up at him sadly. "No. Not at all."

Tom frowned. "Haven't you ever danced before?"

Will chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking. "Yes," he began slowly. "But it was a long time ago..."

"But it's a start, right? Can you remember anything?"

He shot him a glare. "I was four."

Tom swallowed his laughter. "Oh, sorry. You haven't ever danced after that? Never?"

"When was I supposed to have?" Will whirled around to face him. "I haven't had many opportunities, all right?"

"Calm down, I'm just trying to help."

Will heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping. "I know. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it; the only thing you need to do is learn how to dance."

Will paused, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other. "What?"

"Come on. Loads of people know how to dance around here." He gestured to himself. "I know how to dance."

Will grimaced. "You're not going to teach me, are you?"

Tom scowled impatiently. "Of course not. But I know someone who can."

Will tilted his head to the side. "Who?"

"Susan."

"Please!" Will pitted on his heel, continuing down the path. "Even if she would teach me, imagine the possibilities. And like I said, that's insinuating that she would, which she wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because she hates me!" Will explained exasperatedly. "I can hear her now." He took on a high, screechy voice. "'You klutz! Why are you stepping on my feet? Don't you know how to even walk?' There is no way that she is going to help me."

Tom smiled sardonically. "I don't know; I think she likes you, in her own strange, twisted way."

"Don't humor me." He fell silent for a moment, thinking. "You know, maybe I can get by without dancing..."

Tom shrugged. "I guess you could, if you don't mind watching James dance with Elizabeth the whole entire time."

Will's jaw clenched. "You say that as if it would affect me."

"Doesn't it?"

"No. Not really. I don't know. But that's not the point!"

Tom looked bemused. "What _is_ your point, Will?"

"My point? My point is that..." Actually, what was his point? Tom's logic was starting to frustrate him. "My point is that I am not going to ask Susan for help, no matter how desperate I am!"

(Space)

Will rapped promptly on the door. "Susan, are you there?"

There was a slow shuffling noise as the door scraped open. She surveyed him coldly. "What? Did you forget where your room was?"

Tom gave him a nudge.

"Um...No, I just came to apologize for my earlier remark. It was unnecessary and uncalled for."

She grinned. "Thank you; anything else? Or did you really come all the way up here to apologize?"

"Er- No, that's all, thanks." He began to turn around when Tom put a firm grip on his shoulder.

"No you don't. Susan, we need you to do a favor."

She tilted her head back thoughtfully. "Oh really? And what might this endeavor of yours be?"

Will swallowed nervously. "Well, Miss Swann invited me to the celebration, but I don't know how to dance, at all, and I was wondering-"

She held up her hand. "I can see where this is going. All right, I'll teach you. But what's in it for me?"

Will blinked. He hadn't really thought of that. "I- uh, I thought that..."

Her lip curled in disgust. "Do you really think that I would put in all of the time and effort to teach you when I don't get anything out of the experience? You disappoint me. You're going to have to find someone else."

"No, Susan, please, wait!" The despondency in his voice surprised even him. "Please, I'll do anything you want me too, anything!"

The grin spread back across her face, except this time it held a wicked gleam. "Anything?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes, anything."

She crossed her arms thoughtfully. "Very well then. Count me in."

"Susan, thank you, you don't know how-"

"Whatever. Anyway, we should probably do this now."

Susan led them to any empty storage area in the far back of the quarters, leading the way with an almost haughty supremacy. It fact, she seemed highly amused at the prospect of teaching Will to dance. However, he felt quite the opposite.

She sat down on a barrel, crossing her legs. "So tell me; do you know how to do any kind of a dancing? A jig, even?"

He hesitated. "No, not really..."

Susan heaved a sigh, as if to say she had her work cut out for her, before standing. "All right. I suppose we should start with something simple..."

Will nodded eagerly, in full support of that idea.

She cleared her throat. "First of all, you must assure me that you will take these lessons seriously."

"Trust me, I will!"

"Good. So, let's see..." She tapped her finger against her chain in a thoughtful manner. "I suppose that I could teach you how to Gavotte, but it is _so_ outdated...The latest fashion seems to be Contredanse, but even they have grown complex over the decades...Then again, it's nothing but a figure repeated continually...But then again it can have several figures..." She massaged her temples, falling silent. "I don't think you're quite ready for the Minuet, and even then it seems that Mr. Brunswick would be better suited for that sort of thing..."

Tom interrupted her. "Mr. Brunswick?"

"Oh yes; you know, the one with the angelic eyes and pure complexion?" She glanced at Will, winking devilishly. "Miss Swann's _friend_?"

"I want to learn the Minuet," Will said in a gush, sounding almost frantic.

Susan was taken aback, suddenly serious. "Will, I don't think you're quite ready for something like that...It's rather difficult..."

"If James can do it, so can I!" he snapped, turning to Tom. "Right?"

Tom nodded loyally, if not warily and half-heartedly.

Susan's eyes looked heavenward as she moaned. "All right, Will, if it's what you want..."

Her back straightened, and she took on an elegant demeanor so unlike her own. She began to pace around him, snatching a broomstick from the corner. "You should know what dancing means among the aristocracy. To the upper-class, dancing is a way for them to present their social position and wealth, represented through graceful movements and ballroom finery. You are what you dance, and you are what you wear; it is all very superficial. Straighten your back." She whacked him in the back with rod, and none too gently. He immediately went straight. "Posture is an important part of one's grace. It speaks of one's status and background. If you go tromping through the room-"

"I don't 'tromp'," Will corrected defensively, feeling insecure as it was.

"Yes, well, either way, if you go running through the room slouching like a gardener or something, people aren't going to pay you any mind. No offense, Tom," she apologized tonelessly, still inspecting her student.

"None taken." He yawned.

She stopped moving, frowning. "I suppose this will have to do. I'm not going to go through all of the trouble to make you some outfit you'll never wear again. I'll leave that happy predicament up to you. Now, on to the Minuet...

"Minuets are in 3/4 time," she continued seamlessly, beginning to pace again. She eyed him dully. "I'm assuming that you don't know how to read music."

He could already tell he was hopeless. "No..."

She dismissed it with a shrug. "Neither can I. But that doesn't mean that you can't grasp the concept, as long as you know your basic mathematics." She crossed her arms, sitting back down on the barrel. "Now, let's say you have something you can divide...like...like..."

"Miss Swann's cakes?" Tom suggested helpfully, now lounging on the floor and observing the scene dryly.

Her shoulders twitched. "Very well. One of- Miss Swann's cakes. Divide the cake into fourths. The cake is a measure, and the slices are beats. Music is made up of measures; measures are made up of beats. This cake would be an example of 4/4 time; or common time."

Will was completely lost after that point. She went on to explain what she called '3/4 time' and how it was 'what held it all together'. In fact, she seemed so caught up in her speech, that she wasn't even paying attention to Will, who was forcing himself to nod and say, "Yes," every so often.

"Do you understand?" she eventually asked, one eyebrow arching higher than the other.

"Er...I think so," he began slowly.

She sighed. "I can see that you somehow managed to not retain a single word I just said. Just remember this." She clapped her hands rhythmically. "One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three. Can you do that? Or do I need to write it down?"

"No." Still, none of it seemed to be making sense.

She nodded curtly, looking satisfied. "Good. We'll meet back here tomorrow night."

Will glanced back at Tom, somehow not surprised to see that he was fast asleep.

**TBC...**

**williz**: Thanks. I am a bit partial to this story myself...And yes, Will does seem to be having a hard time! Hopefully James will get his someday, eh?

**lateBloomer04**: Lol Was Susan the teacher you were thinking of? And yes, poor Will Hopefully he'll get a break soon.

**piglet12345**: I'm very glad that you're enjoying the story. As far as age, I kinda jumped their ages up because it's more fun (cuz they do look very young at the beginning on the movie, indeed), but only by a year or so. James isn't actually the one who owns the villa and everything, that's actually his parents. He's around the same age as Elizabeth and Will.

**Nuriel**: I'm glad you're enjoying it! And yes, poor Will; he can't dance _and_ he doesn't have anything to wear!


	15. The Way of Flowers

**a/n**: Sorry for the slower update; I just got back from a really long vacation, so I'm worn out.

Anyway, once again, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews. Please keep them coming!

Enjoy!

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; still not mine

**Chapter 15**

**The Way of Flowers**

"Here; what about this?"

Elizabeth observed the sketch closely, holding it up to the light streaming through the parlor window. "It is lovely," she agreed. "But what is it?"

"It's white ranunculus," Katherine explained excitedly, one finger tracing the small, rose-like petals. "Very simple, yet elegant. It's commonly used as a greeting to guests, accompanied by spurge. Alone, it means that the giver is dazzled by your charms!"

Katherine's clear green eyes danced as they put their heads together and giggled, her loose, honey colored curls falling over her shoulders. Katherine had a fascination with flowers, and was helping Elizabeth pick out a simple floral arrangement.

Elizabeth set the parchment down, catching a glance of someone in the hall. "Will!" she called over, gesturing to them.

He smiled. "Good day Miss Swann. What have you got here?"

"We're trying to sort out some kind of arrangement," Elizabeth replied curtly. "This is my friend, Katherine Bishop. Katherine, this is Will Turner."

Katherine held out one daintily gloved hand, a bemused smile dimpling her porcelain doll features. "How do you do?"

Will glanced down at the white lace confusedly. He took it, bending down and awkwardly kissing it. Helen pulled out a fan and unfurled it, holding it over her right cheek timidly.

However, Will didn't seem to notice. He sat down next to Elizabeth, opening a collection of sketches. He frowned. "Couldn't you just ask one of the gardeners to send you an assortment?"

Elizabeth shook her head amusedly. "Of course not! Who knows what kind of message it would send!"

"Really." Katherine nodded in agreement, lowering her fan to lean over the picture he was looking at. "They might send daffodils, a very bad message to guests indeed."

"What is this?" His eyes scanned the drawing.

"Sweet William," Elizabeth replied.

Will started, reddening. "Miss Swann-"

"That's the name of the flower," she explained bluntly. "What? Did you think I said something else?"

"No," he said, though very unconvincingly.

"Sweet William is the symbol of gallantry," Katherine happily informed him (Elizabeth had to admit that she was like a walking encyclopedia, ready to spill any information she contained at the slightest suggestion). "They're classified as _Dianthus barbatus_, and belong to the Caryophllaceaea family. Horticultural varieties are usually treated as biennials, that including both single and double flowered forms."

Even though Will looked as if he hadn't understood a word she had just said, his eyes gazed back at the sketch fondly. Elizabeth took in the small, weightless looking petals, their tips rounded. A light rose color fringed a darker, almost black. Despite the colorful array, it was simple and modest. She had to admit that the name suited it.

"They also come in white and purple," Helen finished, ignoring the fact that no one was really listening to her.

"Miss Swann, if it's not too bold to suggest, I believe that this would be a good choice." Will caught her eye.

She took the paper from him, examining it a moment. "No," she finally stated.

Will was incredulous. "Why not?"

"Well, it's just not _festive_ enough!" she explained, using hand gestures for emphasis. "I need something a little less...humble."

"Humble?" He sighed, taking it gently from her hands and setting it loftily on the stack of other rejects, though his eyes lingered on it. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I was thinking of something more like this." She handed a piece of parchment to Katherine, who was obviously the better suited for helping her make this critical decision.

Katherine nodded slowly. "Ah, _Scilla nonspripta_. An interesting choice."

Will wrinkled his nose. "A very _blue_ choice. Isn't this a bluebell?"

"Yes, it is." Katherine's curls bounced as she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"What's the matter with it?" Elizabeth's eyes glimmered as she imagined them festooning the tables, the small, bell-shaped flowers pointed downward at they rested in vases. "Don't you think it's lovely?"

He chewed on his lip. "I've never liked bluebells," he finally admitted with a small shrug.

Elizabeth felt her face fall. Yet another contrast to James. It seemed that they would never be friends. "Bluebells are James's favorite flower," she informed him softly. "But I suppose you're right. They're too downcast, too thoughtful."

Katherine lifted the two sketches in question, her eyes fluttering from one to the other. "What if," she began slowly, "we combined the _Scilla nospripta_ with the _Dianthas_ _barbatus_?"

Elizabeth considered this. "They're both so different..."

"Really, though, Elizabeth, just think!" Helen waved the parchment in the air exasperatedly. "We could start a new trend!"

"It's too blue," Will protested.

"What, you don't like blue?" Elizabeth eyed him, grinning. "Really, it could probably work, if the Sweet William was white...But I do like the rose..."

"Purple might add a nice finish." Katherine leaned toward her, her fan slipping from her lap unheeded.

Will scowled. "But it's so _blue_!"

"What do you have against the color blue?" Elizabeth cried in annoyance.

"It's just not one of my favorite colors," he explained ruefully.

"Then what is your favorite color?"

He blinked. "Yellow."

Her eyes narrowed. Truly, that was not incomprehensible.

"Well, this is my gala, and I shall choose the colors." She paused, thinking. "We shall have bluebells with purple Sweet William, along with a small sprig of white ranunculus and spurge. I think it will provide a refreshing break from all of the blue..."

Katherine nodded in agreement. "We should place the order right away." She turned to Will. "Bluebells are the symbol of faith or constancy. They are members of the Liliaceae family. The Scilla nonspripta is the English bluebell."

Elizabeth could just picture James at the party. _Lizzy, the bluebell is my favorite flower. It reminds me so much of you...Oh, you were thinking of me when you selected it? How thoughtful of you...Perhaps we could pick some together some time at my manor back in Britain..._

"Miss Swann?"

"Hmm?" Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush as she was drawn from her thoughts. "Yes, Will?"

He frowned. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, as if he thought better of it. He finally stood.

"I should get back to work. Thank you, Miss Swann. And Miss Bishop, it was a pleasure to meet you."

Katherine eyed him as he left. "He's an interesting chap," she said as soon as he was out of earshot. "Does he live here?"

"Yes. He's lived with us here for little over two months."

"Oh really." Katherine retrieved her fan, grinning. "He's quite comely."

Elizabeth snorted. "Will? Comely?"

"Yes! Don't you think so?"

Elizabeth took a sip of her tea. _James_ was comely. Will was just...well, Will was Will. It wasn't that he wasn't comely, he just was...Will. That was all there was to it. Elizabeth didn't even try to explain this to Katherine, but instead let the matter lie.

"What do you think of azalea?" she asked instead, hastily changing the subject.

**TBC... **


	16. Of Slugs and Rugs

**a/n**: Okay, I'm finally back. I took this vacation in July, and when I came back I wasn't feeling very well. I'll try to update again soon!

Please keep up with the reviews. I enjoy each and every one of them.

Enjoy!

Romen

**Disclaimer**: familiar; not mine. Unfamiliar; mine.

**Chapter 16**

**Of Slugs and Rugs**

Susan glared at him, shifting her weight as she lifted the full basket of laundry a little higher. "Come along, Will! We don't have all day!"

"Coming," he muttered from behind the heavier load, trying not to drop anything. It was late in the evening, and Susan was forcing him to help her with all of her chores in payment for his lessons. So far, she said that he was doing well, but he could hardly dare to believe it himself.

They had only had two sessions. Susan said that he was progressing quickly, but he still felt very silly. He wondered if he had been rash to think that he could conquer the minuet.

'Probably,' he thought to himself. 'I should have just thought of some way to get out of dancing...'

A piercing shriek distracted him from his thoughts. He bumped into Susan, tripping and landing on the ground on his back side, the basket falling from his grasp. He pushed himself up, stepping over the mess.

"What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly, taken aback at the sheer terror on her face.

She pointed to something on the path. "S--Sl-Slug!"

Will frowned, looking down at the thick black figure slowly crawling toward them. "Susan, you screamed because you saw a _slug_?"

She screeched again, running to hide behind him. "Throw it away!"

He bent down to examine it closer. "It's probably more afraid of you than you are of it."

"Push it away!" she insisted, hopping from foot to foot nervously. "Will, please!"

He snorted. "Susan, for goodness sakes, it's a slug! What is it going to do to you?"

She drew in a shaky breath, staring at it wide-eyed. "It's their eyes. And the way they move. They just keep getting longer..."

"Just step over it." He turned around to look at the scattered sheets with a scowl. He ran one hand over his face in frustration. "At least they weren't clean...Here, help me pick these up." No answer. "Susan?"

He caught a glimpse of her skirt as she rushed through the door, running as fast as her feet could take her. He rolled his eyes and began gathering the sheets, pushing them back in the basket ruefully. He'd never seen her act so strangely, from a slug at that! It wasn't that he liked them himself, but he wasn't going to go insane from just seeing one.

He lifted his load, glancing down at it before making his way to the manor. The day was utterly depressing; gray, cloudy skies, with wet, muggy air. The beautiful weather from a few days ago was gone, only to be replaced by this drear atmosphere. He hoped that it would rain soon to clear the thick air.

He kicked the back door open, walking quickly through the halls. He could hear the sound of voices in the parlor. He recognized the voice of the governor, but he couldn't place the second one. It wasn't James's father, but it did sound familiar...

Without warning, he felt his foot brush against something thick. He fell forward, the basket flying from his grip as he landed on his hands and knees. He shot a glance at the rolled up corner of the rug he had tripped on before taking in the spilled basket.

He sighed heavily. "Not again..." He reluctantly began to gather the contents.

"Will, what are you doing?"

He watched as Elizabeth rushed down the stairs. "Nothing Miss Swann, I just tripped..."

"Here, let me help you." She knelt down next to him, smiling gently. "Really, you should watch where you're going."

He chuckled. "Tell that to the slug."

"What?"

"It's a long story." He paused, bundling a sheet. "So, how old are you going to be? On your birthday, I mean."

"Twelve." She laughed, watching his face. "You look surprised. I know that I look younger, and I'm a bit short...But James looks young for his age, too. He's going to be fourteen in a few months."

"Really." He gritted his teeth.

She pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "So how old are you?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm twelve."

"Oh really? When's your birthday?"

"Sometime in December." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"What day?"

"I don't know, sometime in the middle..."

"No, really, what day?" She cocked her head to the side. "Surely you know your own birthday."

He hesitated. "It's the sixteenth. I don't really celebrate my birthday...anymore." He fell silent, staring off into space.

"Well, a lot of people don't celebrate their birthdays," Elizabeth said at last, breaking the awkward silence. "There's nothing wrong with that. I know someone who-"

"My mother died on my birthday," he interrupted quickly, shoving a sheet into the basket.

"Oh." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, I shouldn't have said anything," he apologized thickly, blinking furiously.

Her eyebrows furrowed concernedly. "No, Will, I'm glad you told me. I'm just sorry that you had to go through that."

He swallowed. "It's not that important." He blinked again, clearing his throat.

She watched him for a moment, saying nothing. "Are you all right?"

He didn't look at her, but nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." He paused. "It's just that- I remember lying in bed. She was really sick then, but I still knew that it was my birthday, and I wished that she was well so we could enjoy it together. Most of our money had been spent on physician care. We were hardly able to afford food. Eventually she stopped seeing doctors, just so she could keep food on the table. She forced herself to work everyday, no matter how much pain she was in. And all I was worried about was my birthday." The word was bitter. It was as if he had forgotten Elizabeth was even there. "I didn't even know that in the other room, she..." His voice trailed off into silence. He rose to his feet shakily, grabbing the full basket. "Selfish of me, huh?"

It took a moment for Elizabeth to find her voice. She stood, following him down the hall. "No, not at all."

His jaw tensed. "All of the times I should have been more of a help..."

"Will, you were a child."

"I was her son." There was a catch in his voice. "It was my job-"

"It wasn't your job to be the adult," Elizabeth said earnestly. "You did all that you could, and she must have been proud of you."

He whirled around. "How do you know? You weren't there, you didn't _know_ her." He stopped himself, adverting his eyes. "I'm sorry."

She observed his face. The expression of guilt and regret was just too much. She took the basket from his arms and set it on the ground before taking both of his hands. "It wasn't your fault."

His shoulders twitched. He drew in a sharp breath, refusing to meet her gaze. "I- I am sorry-"

"Will, stop it." She squeezed his hands. "None of it was your fault. No one blames you." She forced a cheery looking smile, letting go of his hand. "Come on; we should hurry."

She attempted to lift the basket herself. She frowned. "It's heavier than I thought..."

The sides of his mouth twitched. "I'll get it."

As she watched him lift it, she suddenly realized why he was her friend.

**TBC...**


	17. House and Home

**a/n**: Hey, I'm really sorry for another snail-slow update, but RL is giving me a super hard time right now. Updates are probably going to be monthly...Sorry, I know it sucks!

Anyway, thank you for all of the reviews! Please keep them coming, I really, really enjoy them!

Oh, and by the way, gala's up in Chapter 18! I'll try to get that one up soon.

Enjoy!

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 17**

**House and Home**

"Very good." Susan clapped Will on the back as all three of them left the storage room. "Just remember; up on beat one, not the upbeat. You'll do fine."

Will managed a small smile. "Thanks," he muttered, watching as she hurried down the stairs. He mopped his brow nervously. He could only hope that she was telling the truth, and not purposefully sabotaging him...

Tom snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot. Are you doing anything this evening?"

Will blinked. "No. Why?"

"We'd like to invite you over for dinner," Tom replied, running one hand through his hair and ruffling it. "If you're able to come, that is."

Will could hardly believe what he was hearing. He nodded quickly. "Yes, thank you. Are- are you sure it's all right?"

Tom laughed, starting down the stairs. "Of course it's all right! My mum's been suggesting it for weeks."

"Your mother?"

"Uh-huh."

Will had to bite down the urge to ask, 'You have a mother!' Of course he had a mother; _every_one had a mother. Tom never spoke about his family, and Will had just begun to think that he and his father were the only one's who lived there.

But it wasn't unusual for both parents to live together.

"Where do you live?" Will asked as they exited the servant's quarters, heading out into the humid night.

"Out there." Tom gestured with a nod of his head, out into the distance. "It's a little bit of a walk from here, but nothing too bad, I guess."

Will glanced up at the hazy moon. "So...how long have you lived out here?"

"For a few years; we came out here whenever they started colonizing the island."

"Oh." Will fell silent. He shoved his hands deep down into his pockets. A knot was forming in the pit of his stomach.

A cottage began to loom at them, an orange glow shining out from the small curtained windows. Will could make out the servant's quarters behind them, nothing more than a small pin-prick in the distance. He glanced back at the cottage, chewing on his lip in anticipation. There was a shed not too far from it. Will could hear the sound of voices from the inside. He stood back as Tom walked up to the door and knocked, yelling, "It's me!"

The door scraped open. A short, plump woman with a worn looking apron smiled down at them. "Hello," she said, her cheeks rosy. "You must be Will."

Will nodded, adverting his eyes. "Thank you for having me over," he mumbled, pretending to look interested in his shoes.

She laughed, standing out of the way so that they could pass through. "The pleasure is all mine, dear. You could learn manners from him, Tom."

"Really." Tom grinned and rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking, gesturing for Will to go in first. "I'll have to remember that."

The moment Will stepped over the threshold he felt something heavy collide with his body. Before he knew it he was on the floor, something wet and slimy licking his face.

"Get off of him!" he heard Tom yelling. "Now! Get! Bad dog, _bad _dog!" He hauled Will to his feet as the large, brown hound retreated, whining softly under his breath. "Sorry about that; he can be a little overzealous at times."

"It's all right," he managed to wheeze in reply. The dog had knocked all of the air out of him.

"You poor thing," Tom's mother crooned, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "Come sit down at the table..."

Will smiled weakly. "I'm fine, ma'am."

"You look exhausted." She herded him over to the corner, where a small, rectangular brown table was situated. "Here, sit down. Dinner will be ready in a moment."

Tom sat down next to him, only to be pulled back up again by his mother. "You need to help me in the kitchen!"

"I'm tired too," Tom protested, holding up his callused hands. "Besides, Alice can help you."

"Nuh-uh," a small voice quipped, and for the first time Will noticed the child sitting across from him. She looked to be no older than five, and had thick, curly dark locks and the same freckles across her nose and cheeks that her brother had. "I'm too little."

"Come on." She dragged him through a door on the right. Will squirmed in his chair, wondering if he should get up and help.

"What's your name?"

Will smiled at Alice, leaning forward. "My name is Will."

"My name's Alice. I'm four." She held up four fingers, smiling proudly. "How old are you?"

"I'm twelve." He opened both of his hands, then closed one of them and held up two fingers.

"You go past two hands!" she exclaimed in amazement. "You're old! Soon I'll fill out a whole hand. Where do you live?"

"I live at the governor's manor."

Her eyes grew wide. "Are you Miss Swann's brother?"

He chuckled. "No, I live in the servant's quarters."

"You're a servant?"

"Well, no..."

"But if you live with the servants, doesn't that make you a servant?" she asked bluntly.

Will's ego was slowly deflating. He was saved from answering by the sound of the door being knocked open roughly. He started, but Alice scrambled to the floor and ran to the entrance. "Papa!" she cried, being scooped up into arms large enough to hold two of her.

The man planted a kiss on her dark head, his tanned, weathered skin crinkling as he smiled. He carried her back over to the table, frowning.

"Who are you?" he asked warily.

Will swallowed nervously. "My name is William Turner. I'm a friend of Tom's. Thank you for having me over to your home, sir," he added as an after-thought.

"The pleasure is mine, William," he replied kindly, bouncing Alice up and down on his knee. "We've heard a lot about you from Tom."

The door to the kitchen opened and Tom's mother stepped through, wiping her hands on her apron. "Dinner is almost ready. Would you mind helping me set the table, Sam?"

The man stood, Alice slipping from his lap. "Sure thing, Martha."

Will pushed back his chair. Martha shook her head at this, smiling gently. "You're our guest; we'll take care of things."

He sat back down, watching as they filed back into the kitchen, laughing and talking. Back home he had always been the one to set the table, especially after his mother had gotten sick. He drummed his fingers on the table, glancing out the window. He could hear the sound of Tom's parents speaking. He wondered what his own father was doing...

Tom suddenly entered the room, balancing a stack of plates. He grinned loftily, setting it down on the table and beginning to pass them around. Alice followed shortly, silverware clutched in her hands. Will offered to pass them around, since she was so young. When Martha saw this, she clucked her tongue with a bemused smile. "You don't have to help, really, dear." She set a dish on the table.

Before long Sam and Martha had brought out dinner. There was stew, sausage, and mashed potatoes. It all smelled and looked delicious. His stomach growled impatiently the entire time they said grace. When they had finished, he piled his plate, listening as they all conversed. It reminded him so much of what his life _had_ been like that it almost hurt.

"So, Will," Sam began, his eyes turning to him, "you work at the governor's house?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you like it there?"

"Yes sir, very much so." He paused. "I am very grateful to have a place to stay."

Martha stood, lifting the dish that contained the stew. "They're obviously not feeding you enough," she remarked, shoveling more onto his plate. "You're just as bad as Tom."

Tom sighed. "Mother-"

"It wouldn't hurt for you to have a little bit more either," she chided gently, sitting back down. "Have as much as you want, Will."

"She says that to everyone," Tom loudly whispered, earning giggles from Alice and a glare from his mother.

Sam eyed his son and grinned. "So, Will, do you know what you're going to do with your future?"

Will chewed for a moment, trying to buy time. He'd never really been asked a question like that before. "Not really," he finally admitted, taking a swig of his water.

"It's important that you start thinking about it. These years are what matter most." He turned his attention to his wife. "I was down at the docks today-"

Will suddenly started choking. He could sense everyone staring at him, but he didn't care. "D-Docks?" he finally managed to stutter.

"Er- Yes. Anyway, that's where I got the potatoes."

Will's mind reeled. "Sir, do you visit the docks often?"

Sam shrugged. "Occasionally. Why?"

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, full of hope. "Most of the ships are merchant vessels, right?"

"Yes."

Will leaned forward excitedly. "Have you ever met or heard of a man named William Turner?"

Sam frowned, his head cocked to the side thoughtfully. "I think..."

'If he has to think about it, he must have!' Will thought to himself, his shoulders twitching. Even if the ship wasn't docked then, if he could only find out the name of the vessel, he might be able to contact his father. Thoughts flew through his head. He would probably have to leave with him, but that didn't matter...He would miss Tom and Elizabeth, of course, but he could always write them...Everything would be all right now that he had his father, he was sure of it. He already knew exactly what he would say when he saw him...

Sam shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I ever have."

Will froze. He slowly slumped in his chair. The empty feeling of being alone began to solidify in his chest. He forced a smile. "Oh. Thank you anyway." He picked at the remnants of his sausage, trying to act like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He could feel his face grow warm with disappointment. He shouldn't have built his hopes up like that...

Tom hastily changed the subject, much to Will's relief. He tried to forget the whole incident, but it kept coming back to him. He had been so close to finding his father, so close. He wished his mother would have told him the name of the ship that he worked on, but she hadn't got a chance. A lump formed in his throat. Maybe when he had signed on to the ship before he had arrived at Port Royal, his father's vessel had been docked right next to his. Perhaps he had heard the name a thousand times before. The chance frustrated him.

The frustration was suddenly replaced by a surge of fatigue. He yawned, his eyelids feeling as heavy as lead. "I should be going..." He pushed his chair back, standing. "Thank you very much for having me over. The food was very good, ma'am."

"You're welcome to say here for the night," Martha offered graciously.

The temptation was great, but Will shook his head. "No, thank you. I have to be up early tomorrow." 'Or everyday.'

"Are you sure?" Sam's brow furrowed. "It's rather late to be walking back by yourself. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I'll be all right. Thank you for having me over."

"You're welcome here anytime." Martha stood, helping him to the door. "Wait, I want to send some bread with you..."

Will watched as she hurried into the kitchen. Tom began to clear the table, following her. Hesitating, Will turned to Sam.

"Sir? May I ask you a favor?"

"Of course." He waited.

"If you ever go down to the docks again, would you ask anyone if they've heard of a William Turner?"

Sam smiled. "I'll remember it every time I go."

"Thank you. If- If you ever meet him, would you-"

He nodded.

Martha rushed back inside, holding out a bundle. "Here. Come by anytime you like."

"Thank you, ma'am." He held it gently, smiling at them all. "If you don't mind, I should be going..."

"Good-bye, Will." Tom poked his head out of the kitchen, grinning.

Will waved, too tired to do anything else, as he stepped out into the night. If he hadn't been so sleepy, he would have ran all of the way back to the quarters.

He still had a chance of coming across his father yet.

**TBC...**


	18. The Gala

**a/n**: Um, I'm really sorry for this late update, my life has been completely insane since the demise of summer...um, yeah. I'm sorry to say that this will probably be the only update for at least a month. I'm really sorry, but RL is still treating me hard.

Anyway, thank you all sooo much for the reviews! I really enjoy them! Please keep them up!

Enjoy!

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 18**

**The Gala**

"You must have something."

"No. Nothing."

"Why didn't you take care of this earlier?"

"I didn't realize that I was running out of time! I didn't mean to wait until the last minute..."

Tom frowned. "Surely you have _something_."

Will slammed his drawer shut in frustration. "I don't have anything to wear!" he cried dejectedly, sitting down on the bed and running his hands over his face.

The door opened. Will didn't need to look up to know that Susan had intruded.

"I see that you have nothing to wear," she said amusedly, smiling in a smug way.

Will scowled. "Go away."

"Don't worry; I'm not going to pester you. I've come to help."

Tom cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Susan examined her nails, one hand on her hip. "I just happen to have some clothing that belonged to a boy about your size."

Will blurted the first thought that popped into his head. "You didn't steal it, did you?" He could only imagine what would happen if he walked into the room wearing stolen clothes...

"No," she snapped impatiently. "It belonged to- someone I used to know." She paused. "So do you want it or not?"

Will sighed. "Why not?"

She pitted on her heel, and for a moment Will wondered if she had just been bluffing. However, in a few moments she returned with a large bundle clutched to her chest. She shut the door behind her, patting it and sighing as she set it upon the bed.

"You're going to owe me one for this," she told him sharply as he began to untie it.

"Yes, well..." He stopped, catching a glimpse of rich, dark blue fabric. He pulled out the waistcoat, his eyes widening. There was matching pants and an overcoat as well. "I- I can't wear this," he stuttered. "It's too expensive-"

"Come now." Susan grinned, looking at it fondly. "Try it on!"

They left the room as he pulled the clothes on, bursting in eagerly the minute he called, "I'm done." Tom stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"You should wear it," he said decisively.

Will pulled on the sleeves. "I don't know..."

"I have a mirror in my room!" Susan quipped, grabbing his arm and dragging him across the hall. "Take a look at yourself and decide."

Will's eyes widened as he took in his reflection. As much as he hated to admit it, he did like what he saw. He could almost trick himself into believing that he was an aristocrat. He hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Still, he almost felt like the clothing was too good for him. It was an awkward feeling...

"So, what do you think?" Tom waited for a reply.

Will swallowed. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Susan chuckled. "You look very handsome."

"Don't joke." He turned away from the mirror. "Really, do I look ridiculous?"

She crossed her arms. "Not really, but then again you always look ridiculous."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Will, you look fine. You should hurry; it's going to start soon."

Susan sat down on her bed, which was surprisingly very well made. In fact her room was extremely neat. "So do you have a present for her?"

"She said that she didn't need presents."

"Will, you idiot! That means that you were supposed to bring her a present!"

Will's face contorted. "But she said she didn't want one..."

Susan folded her hands in her lap, looking like someone who is fed up with another person's stupidity. "Will, she couldn't directly ask you for one, just because Mr. Brunswick will probably be the only one to give her anything, among other close friends. But it would have meant a lot to her if you had."

Will sighed. "It's too late now anyway..."

Tom clapped him on the back. "Exactly. And _you're _going to be too late if you don't hurry!"

Will rushed down the stairs, his heart thudding in his chest. He suddenly wondered if he had made the wrong decision when Elizabeth had offered him the invitation. He remembered being upset when he had thought he wouldn't be invited. Now he wished that he hadn't been.

'Stop thinking this way,' he told himself as he stopped outside of the ballroom, taking a deep breath as he listened to the sound of chattering voices. 'Act like you belong. Act natural...Whatever that means...'

He burst through the door, shocked to see the live orchestra and the huddle of girls that eyed him. He gave them a small smile before craning his neck, searching for Elizabeth and hoping that she wasn't accompanied by James...

"Oh, there he is. Will!"

He followed Elizabeth's voice. She was in the center of the handful of girls. He hurried over, dismayed to see that she was once again wearing blue (but who was he to talk; he was wearing blue too). "Hello," he greeted them softly.

"This is my friend, William Turner," Elizabeth continued. "This is Helen Bishop, who you met before, Veronica Thames, Penelope Henry-"

The names went on and on. He nodded at all of them, trying to look like he was actually retaining their names. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed when Elizabeth took him aside, politely excusing them from the group.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" she exclaimed cheerily.

Will felt his ears grow warm. "Thank you for inviting me, Miss Swann."

She led him over to a refreshment table, pouring him a glass of punch as she informed him about all of the guests. Will wondered how she could keep track of all of the information; she seemed to know everything about everybody. He contented himself to just listening and enjoying the moment, sipping the sweet drink and being thankful that he hadn't yet ran into James.

But the moment was short-lived.

"Ah, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth turned her eyes on him, smiling. "Hello James."

Will wasn't insulted by the fact that James ignored him. In fact it was a bit of a relief. Still, he was annoyed by the fact that Elizabeth was giggly and coy, complimented him on everything...

He pulled his eyes away from them, observing the three boys surrounding James. One was tall and lean, the other was short and plump (the opposite appearance was ironic), and the last one had thick, dark, hair that hung over his eyes. He wondered if they were like James's in any way. Hopefully they weren't.

"Mr. Turner, I didn't notice you there." His pale blue eyes flashed in his direction. "You're as quiet as a mouse. But then you'd know more about mice, wouldn't you?"

Before Will could say anything, Elizabeth blurted, "James, stop."

Their eyes locked for a moment. James shrugged. "All right. My sister wants to speak with you..."

Elizabeth mouthed, 'I'll be right back,' to Will apologetically, walking arm in arm with James in the other direction. Will shuffled his feet, watching as people around him conversed.

"So are you going to ask her?"

He jumped, whirling around. Katherine stood beside him. "I'm sorry, I'm Katherine Bishop. We met before...?"

He nodded. "Yes, I remember."

She shifted her weight. "So are you going to ask her?" she repeated.

He blinked confusedly. "Ask who?"

"Are you going to ask Elizabeth to dance," she stated, with an expression that said, 'Wasn't that obvious?'

"Oh." His eyes trailed over to her. She was speaking with a girl who looked similar to James, except everything about her was paler, from her skin to her blue eyes to her fine blond hair. They were both laughing, though it looked strained. He sighed. "I suppose..."

"Don't be nervous," she advised coolly.

"I'm not," he said quickly, looking back at her. "I'm fine."

Katherine blinked. "Good. Then go ask her."

'Why am I listening to her?' he thought to himself as he crossed the floor with determination. He guessed it didn't matter anyway. He'd taken the lessons so he could dance, hadn't he? Hadn't he been planning to ask Elizabeth all along? What was the problem? It was very simple actually. It would be the easiest thing he would ever do in his life. He strode up to her and stopped, drawing in a deep breath. "Miss Swann."

She turned around to face him, looking perplexed. Will was relieved to see that James wasn't there. "Yes Will?"

His mouth went dry. "I was...I was wondering if...if maybe, you, uh...could...or, if you, er, wanted to..."

Elizabeth's brow was furrowed. The others stared at him blankly. He cursed himself. What was he doing? Why wouldn't his stupid tongue work?

He cleared his throat. "Maybe we could, um...What I mean to say is, um, uh..."

"Here you are Lizzy." James swaggered over, handing her a glass of punch. "Oh, hello Mr. Turner. May I introduce you to my sister, Wendeline. Wendeline; William Turner."

Wendeline held out a delicate hand. "How do you do?"

Without thinking, Will shook her hand shortly, before turning his attention back to Elizabeth. He mustered up all of his courage. "Miss Swann, I was wondering if you would like to dave this hance." He paused, flushing furiously. "I mean-"

James interrupted as the orchestra began to play another song. "Ah, this is one of my favorites! Lizzy, would you like to have this dance?"

"Yes, but wait one moment." She looked at Will. "Is there something that you need to say?"

"Um..." He hesitated. "I was just-"

But before he could finish, James led Elizabeth away. Blood pounded past Will's ears as he watched James bow and Elizabeth curtsey first to the audience, and then to each other. The dance slowly begun as they weaved around each other, dainty and refined. Their eyes flickered to each other and looked away restrainedly. He scowled, trying to concentrate on something else. But he always found himself looking at them...

The dance finally ended with them repeating the honors. Elizabeth walked back over to him as James headed toward someone he recognized. She smiled at Will, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear as she clasped her hands behind her back, standing next to him.

"You did very good," Will managed to say.

She chuckled. "Thank you. I like dancing." She paused before continuing. "Do you?"

Will cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. "Yes," he finally stated simply.

Elizabeth rocked back and forth on her heels. "It truly is an enjoyable activity."

"Yes," he agreed.

She glanced at him before playing with something in her hands. "I wouldn't mind dancing again."

He stared at her. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

"Miss Swann," he began uneasily.

She grew still, looking up at him. "Yes?"

"Would..." He paused. "You don't have to if you don't want to..."

"Yes?" she repeated, her tone expectant.

He blinked. "Would-you-like-to-dance-with-me?" It came out in a rush, sounding like one, long word.

She grinned. "Of course!"

The dance went smoothly. Susan had indeed taught him well. He couldn't help but make a mental note to sincerely thank her, even if she did laugh at him. She deserved it for letting him see the abashed look on James's face.

But even more so for the beautiful smile of Elizabeth.

**TBC...**


	19. Will and James

**a/n**: Hey everybody, sorry it's taken me so long! I've just been really, really busy.

I hope everyone had a great holiday! My cousin burnt the rolls so we used them to play baseball (really, I'm serious).

Thanks again for all of the reviews! Please keep up with them, they mean a lot to me!

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 19**

**Will and James**

The next morning, Will woke to a shaft of warm, golden sunlight dancing across his face. He stretched before dressing and hurrying down the stairs. The quarters had a pleasant bustle about them, the sound of voices resembling the buzz of bees. He was mildly surprised when Margaret found him and told him that there were no dishes to be done, and that he had the whole morning free. For a while he wandered the grounds, pondering what to do with his free-time, when he decided to go see Susan.

He was in a very good and gracious mood.

Just as he thought, she was in the kitchen, busily churning butter. He sat down on a stool beside her, smiling. "Hello."

She stopped, staring at him before snapping, "What do you want?"

"I just came to say hello, and see how your day was going."

"Like it usually does. I have hours of work to do, and I'm wasting precious moments by churning butter and talking to you."

He slipped from the stool. "Is there anything I can do?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Is there anything that I can do for you? I have nothing to do, and if you want me to do something I'm more than ready to help."

She turned slightly to the left, a look of doubt flashing across her face. "Why?"

"Because I have nothing else to do, and I would like to help you."

She shrugged. "All right. Now let's see if there's anything that you _could_ do..." She fell silent, thinking. "Oh yes! Deliver this package to Tom." She pulled a bundle out from the front pocket of her apron. "It arrived this morning."

"All right." He observed it. "I'll be right back!"

He hurried out of the kitchen and into the sunlit day. The weather was lovely; clear skies, pleasant air. The mugginess was gone. He tucked the parcel under his left arm, glancing up at the white, full, fluffy clouds. He laughed, speeding his walk into a canter.

He found Tom up front, digging a space for a cluster of bushes. When he noticed him, he plopped down on the grass in greeting. Will snorted and sat down next to him, but not half as heavily.

"What are you doing here?" Tom wheezed, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"I have a package for you."

"Really? How thoughtful of you."

Will rolled his eyes, handing it over. "I'm delivering it for Susan, since I don't have any chores. She said it arrived this morning."

Tom frowned, taking it from him and ripping the paper open. "Susan? Why didn't she just deliver it herself?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know."

Tom examined the contents idly. "We've been waiting for these bulbs for quite some time now." He stood, not bothering to brush himself off. "Let's take them to the shed."

Will rose and followed him, but he _did_ brush himself off.

"So how did the gala go?" Tom asked, running one hand over his face.

"It went very well," Will admitted, thinking of Elizabeth's swirling (blue) skirts as she danced. "I really enjoyed it..."

"I'm glad you did." He paused. "So did you dance?"

Will nodded. "Uh-huh."

"With who?"

There was a beat of silence before, "I danced with Miss Swann."

"Good for you." He groaned, cocking his head toward the path ahead of them. "Look who it is."

Will's eyes went to the heavens, wondering why he chanced to come upon James when his day was going so _well_?

"Just ignore him," Tom muttered under his breath as James started walking in their direction. "Don't take anything he says seriously."

Will didn't get a chance to reply.

"Good day," James greeted curtly, not pausing to wait for a response. "I was wondering if any of you have seen Lizzy?"

Tom shook his head. "No, Mr. Brunswick."

Will frowned. "No, not today."

"Oh. I was just wondering, since I haven't seen her all day. I've looked everywhere." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe she's baking. I hope it's chocolate, I like that much better than-"

"Anything Elizabeth makes is good," Will interrupted suddenly, not thinking. "It doesn't matter whether it's chocolate or not."

They were both looking at him sideways. He pulled his shoulders back, perplexed. "What? What did I say?"

James's eyes narrowed. "You called her Elizabeth."

Will's tongue felt thick. "N-no, I didn't, I-I said..." Had he? Had he actually said 'Elizabeth'? He looked at Tom, who had a similar expression on his face, as if he'd sworn.

James shrugged, surprising him. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. You two _are_ friends."

'Maybe he isn't so bad after all,' Will thought to himself, the gracious feeling from earlier in the day lingering yet.

"Lizzy told me that your father works on a merchant ship," James blurted, his face unreadable. "Is that true?"

"Yes." Will shuffled his feet. 'Or maybe he is that bad.'

"What's the name of the ship?" he pressed.

Will felt his face flush. He longed to shout, 'None of your business!' but instead said, "I don't know."

"Well, we must be on our way," Tom interrupted quickly. "We'll keep an eye out for Miss Swann..."

James ignored him. "Your mother didn't tell you?"

"She died before she could," he muttered suspiciously. "Why?"

"Oh. I was just thinking that maybe you could ask her." He paused. "So she never told you the name?"

"No, she didn't." He gritted his teeth.

"Are you sure that he even _worked_ on a ship?"

"What are you trying to say?" Will's voice was steadily rising.

James crossed his arms. "Maybe he was a farmer. Or, maybe she didn't really know who your father was, so she made up the whole story."

"My father works on a merchant vessel!" Will shouted, stepping forward. "He's a good, strong sailor!"

"At least you think he's your father!" James countered. "Like I said, she could have thought he was just-"

But James never got a chance to finish, for at that moment Will swung his arm and punched him in the jaw.

For a moment all three of them stood in shock, before James lunged at him, knocking Will off his feet and onto the ground. With surprising speed and force, he hit Will in the nose. He hit him again. He could feel and taste blood running down his face, but he ignored it and kneed him in the stomach. James cringed and relented slightly, giving Will time to push him over and punch him in the chest. James rolled over and elbowed him in the face. Will kicked him in the shin.

James grabbed the neck of his shirt as Will took a hold of him by the shoulders, trying to pull him up toward him. They both pulled forward, their heads knocking together roughly. At that moment, James shouted, calling for help as Will fell backward, his head reeling. He pushed himself to his feet as James stood. They ran for each other, struggling once again.

Someone screamed, and for a moment Will thought it was James when he realized it was coming from behind them. He didn't stop. He fought against the strong arm that he felt wrap around his waist. He cried out, watching as James was restrained.

"What is the meaning of this?" Again, the voice was familiar. Deep and slightly nasally...

"Sir, I can explain." Tom licked his lips nervously. "It- It was-"

Will stopped struggling, the gravity of what he had done slowly sinking in. Margaret (who, along with Mary, was holding James's shoulders) looked down at him gravely. Tom's face was contorted. Will's eyes slowly went to the face of the man that was holding him.

"Lieu- Lieutenant Norrington," he choked out, his eyes widening. He was getting blood on the neatly trimmed sleeve...

"What is going on here?" Norrington repeated contemptibly, for some reason looking down at Will, and not at James.

Will tried to say something, but the only thing that came out was a strange gurgling noise.

(Space)

The next thing Will knew, he was standing in the parlor. He stared down at the floor, his face burning with shame. He didn't dare look up at the governor, or at the door whenever James's father burst in.

Weatherby Swann massaged his temples, heaving a sigh. "Explain to me how this happened."

Will couldn't find his voice to speak. He was probably going to be sent away...Elizabeth would never want to see him again...

"Can't you see what happened?" Mr. Brunswick bellowed. "This- this- _deviant_ attacked my son!"

"Aye, I knew he was a bad egg from the beginning!" Mary quipped. "Always knew he would be nothing but trouble-"

"Mary, please." The governor dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She left, but not without glaring at Will first. "Anyway, was this how it happened, Will? Did you attack James for no reason?"

Will swallowed. "N-no, sir..."

"Liar!" Mr. Brunswick looked as if he were about to strike him. "My son's safety is in danger, as are the others of this household! Weatherby, if you don't send him away, then I suggest you lash him."

Will felt his stomach twist in an uncomfortable knot. He guessed that it would be better if they just lashed him...But they would probably end up lashing him _and_ sending him away...

The governor shook his head. "Henry, this child isn't a threat to anyone. This was just a mistake."

"Mistake! Mistake! Look at this!" He pointed to the fat lip and swollen jaw that marred James's pretty-boy features. "Do you think that this just happened by accident! No, this boy is a menace, a-"

James cleared his throat. "Actually, I must admit that I goaded Mr. Turner's arm."

Will was taken aback. He glanced up at James's face. He looked calm and sincere.

"Wh-what?" Henry stammered. "James, what do you mean?"

"It is my fault that the fight began. I shouldn't have said those things. Therefore it is actually I who deserves the greater punishment."

Weatherby looked to Will for verification. Will nodded. "Yes, sir, that is how it happened, but-"

James cut him off. "I am very sorry, and it will never happen again."

"All right." The governor brushed invisible lent off of his sleeve. "Henry, I'll leave you to deal with your son. Meanwhile, please excuse the young Mr. Turner and me." He waited until they left the room before turning his attention to him. He stood, standing in front of Will, who felt his shoulders droop. "I am very disappointed in you, Will," he said at last. "I expected better from you."

Will bit his already cut lip.

"This behavior can not go unaccounted for," he continued. "That's why I have decided to-"

Will couldn't take it anymore. He felt his face twitch as he tried to appear collected. "I'll go get my things," he interrupted, his voice cracking.

The governor frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You're sending me away, aren't you?"

Elizabeth's father chuckled. "Of course not, my dear boy! Why ever would I do that?"

"But- but you just said-"

He set one hand gently on his shoulder. "Will, I am disappointed in your actions, and I want you to know that is not acceptable here, but I am by no means sending you away."

Will blinked. "Are you going to lash me?"

"No, neither shall you be lashed. There will be a punishment, however."

"I am sorry, sir."

"There now. Go get yourself cleaned up."

As the governor watched him leave, he was suddenly thankful he was the father of a daughter.

**TBC...**


	20. To Be Clean

**a/n**: Hey all. I hope you everyone had a fun and safe New Year's!

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed. Please keep them coming, they mean a lot to me.

I probably won't be able to update this quickly again, since break is over small tear.

Enjoy!

Romen

**Disclaimer**: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 20**

**To Be Clean**

"Ow."

Susan scoffed, dabbing gently at his eye. "Don't be such a baby. It's just a little water."

Tom frowned, leaning against the wall as he watched them both sitting on the bed. "That was a bad decision, Will."

Will was too humiliated to reply. He just wanted to crawl under a rock and never come back out.

"You shouldn't have done it," Tom continued. "It's not going to sound very good-"

"I know, all right?" Will pulled away from Susan angrily, even though he was speaking to Tom. "I didn't mean to, it just happened!"

"Oh, sure, it just _happened_." Susan rolled her eyes.

Will scowled. Something about that sounded familiar... "He was saying bad things about my father!"

Tom nodded. "Yes, but two wrongs don't make a right."

Now that sounded suspiciously familiar...

Will was about to say something when the door opened. He felt his heart stop. It was Elizabeth. Her face was stoic, and she wasn't looking at him. "Leave us," she addressed Tom and Susan tonelessly. They glanced at each other before silently retreating from the room.

'She must hate me,' Will thought to himself, adverting his eyes. He could hardly stand to look at her without feeling sick with himself. She had probably begged her father to send him away...

"Why did you do it, Will?" Her voice cracked and she burst into tears.

"Miss Swann, I am so sorry." His face flushed with shame. "I never meant to hurt-"

"Why did you do it?" she repeated, still sobbing. "You should have seen James's father! He was so upset...And- And James, you should have seen him..."

Will swallowed. What had he been thinking? He'd been so selfish, so inconsiderate...

"Now I'm going to have to deal with that," Elizabeth was saying, wiping tears from her cheeks with the palm of her hand. "Don't you understand? Will?" She sighed. He was lying on his stomach, his head hidden under a pillow. She sat down next to him, staring ahead. "Will?"

"I'm sorry." His voice was muffled.

She heaved another sigh. "I know."

"I didn't mean to do anything wrong." He paused. "The day was going so well..."

"James told me what happened. He took responsibility for it."

Will groaned.

"Will?" She gave his shoulder a shake. "Come on."

"I'm a horrible person."

She blinked. "Don't say that."

"I hit someone for the first time today."

She grimaced. "This was the first time you've ever punched anyone?"

"Yes."

"Well it better be the last time too! I never want to see you in another fight." She raised the pillow. "Sit up. I'm trying to talk to you, and I'm not going away."

He reluctantly pushed himself into a sitting position, meeting her gaze. "I'm so sorry, Miss Swann."

"I know. But what's done is done. I want you to apologize to James."

He nodded, saying nothing.

"And you must promise me that nothing like this will ever happen again."

"I promise, Miss Swann."

She touched his right cheek gently, drawing in a sharp breath as she took in his swollen, black eye. "It looks so sore."

He hesitated before shrugging. "It's not that bad."

She bit her lip. "Hopefully it will clear up soon. Ah!" She pulled at the collar of his shirt. "Your shirt is torn."

"What?" He frowned, looking at the tear. "Oh well..."

"Let me mend it for you."

"That's not necessary..."

"No, really." Her eyes glowed. "I insist."

Will looked down at his hands. "All right..."

She stood. "I should be going. I have lessons to do with my tutor. I'll come get it from you this evening."

She had not been gone ten seconds when Tom and Susan poured through the door, looking at him expectantly.

"Well?" Tom asked at last, when Will had not said anything. "Was she mad?"

Will slumped over. "No, not really." 'I don't think so, anyway.'

Susan cocked one brow higher than the other. "What do you mean, not really?"

He hesitated. "She cried..."

Tom's eyes widened. "She _cried_?"

Susan shook her head. "You made Miss Swann cry!"

"Don't remind me." He ran one hand over his face. "I don't think she was too upset...She offered to mend my shirt..."

Tom grinned. "How thoughtful of her."

"Brave is more like it." Susan made a face. "When was the last time you washed it?"

Will flushed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

She ignored him. "More importantly, when was the last time _you_ washed?"

He blinked. "Are you trying to say I stink?"

"Theoretically- yes."

"I don't stink!" he protested, standing. "I'll have you know that cleanliness is important to me!"

"Really?" She tilted her head to the side. "When was the last time you washed that shirt?"

"A- a few days ago."

"Be more specific."

"That's none of your business!" he spluttered. "I don't have to tell you when or why I do my laundry!"

"Fine, fine, just asking." She glanced at Tom. "We'd better get back to work."

He slammed the door closed behind them with a small huff. The notion that he, Will Turner, smelt, was ridiculous! Wasn't it?

'Maybe I do,' he thought to himself suddenly. He looked down at his shirt.

It appeared to be clean. At least...it was still a faded white (well, it did have dirt on it from the fight, but there weren't food stains or anything).

Still...

"It _has_ to be clean!" he stated to himself with very little finality and much doubt. "I've only worn it five times since I washed it last."

He began to unbutton, trying to convince himself that he was sure that his shirt was clean enough, yet at the same time unsure. He held it in his hands a moment before glancing about - even though the room was empty - and holding it close to his face. He took a sniff.

'It's not that bad,' he mused to himself. 'It's fine...I mean, it's not _that _bad...'

But could he let Elizabeth handle it in this condition?

'I have to wash this,' he thought in despair. Another thought suddenly struck him. If his shirt didn't smell- pleasant, what did he smell like?

He remembered telling Susan that he didn't stink. But was it true? Certainly someone else would have told him. After all, it hadn't been that long since he had bathed...had it?

"Blast!" He furiously pulled on another shirt (not wanting to ruin the other one any further) before tucking the other under his arm. He then thought better of it and clutched in his left hand as he pounded down the stairs.

He came upon Tom where he had found him earlier that day, digging for the bushes. "Tom."

"Yes?" He ran a hand across his forehead.

"Um...D- Do- you know how often people bathe around here?"

He frowned. "Why do you want to know?"

Will tried to shrug as if he could care less. "I don't know. How much does your mother make you bathe?"

Tom shrugged. "I wash off every day otherwise I'd have dirt 'all over the table'." He grinned sheepishly. "Other than that, we all bathe about once a week. Why?"

"Oh, no reason." He bit his lip. "No reason at all..."

"What's the matter?"

Will started. "Nothing is the matter."

"Are you afraid you stink or something?"

"Of course not!"

"Listen." Tom threw down his shovel. "You don't stink, but...," he paused, searching for the right words, "...a bath probably wouldn't hurt you."

Will's ears felt hot. "I don't have enough time to get the water, and-"

"Then go swimming."

He stopped. "What?"

"Go swimming." Tom waved toward the left. "There's a spring out there somewhere. I'll go with you; I could use a swim myself. You can swim, right?"

"Of course," he said again. "But what about the shirt?"

"Oh, it smells too? I'm just joking," he added hastily at the expression on Will's face. "Give it to Susan. She'll wash it for you."

"All right..." Still, Will was reluctant. Before long he was going to owe her his life.

Susan, after a lot of complaining on her part and a lot of bargaining on Will's, agreed to wash the shirt first, and make sure it dried. Tom finished his work and led Will to the spring, which was nearly out of sight from the manor.

The water was still and clear. The sky reflected perfectly off of the surface, white clouds and all. For a moment Will forgot all about James, the fight, and how he smelled. The only thing that was there was this spring. He watched his own face wobble back up at him.

The image was distorted as Tom leapt into the water, already having torn his shirt off. He dove under, swimming down to touch the bottom before breaking through to the air. "Come on! The water is great."

Will followed suit, the icy cold water feeling good after being in the burning sun. He hadn't swam in so long that it felt good to do it again. The water stung his eyes, but he still kept them open (well, his right eye was partially closed and open either way, due to the fact that it was swelling quickly). Tom attempted to dunk him several times and succeeded for the most part. They eventually lost track of time.

Amidst their laughter and splashes, they somehow managed to hear a, "So that's where you are."

Will froze. Susan and Elizabeth stood at the banks, looking amused. He wiped a hand across his face, sniffing. "M-Miss Swann."

"And me!" Susan quipped, untying your apron as they swam over to the banks. She threw it to the side, along with her bonnet, before beginning to work her way out her dress.

"What are you doing?" Tom blinked.

"Going swimming! What does it look like I'm doing?" Fortunately she left her under dress on (you never knew what Susan was capable of). She dipped one toe in daintily. "What's the water like?"

"Cold," Will admitted, "but it feels good."

"Very well." She slid down into it, going rigid. "I-It's freezing!" she stuttered in shock.

"It can't be that bad if _they're_ used to it," Elizabeth interjected, beginning to follow suit.

Now it was Will's turn to be shocked. He almost went under. "Miss Swann, are you swimming?"

"I suppose," she answered vaguely, crouching down to stare into the depths.

"But won't you be in trouble?" Will insisted. "Put your dress back on, before someone sees!"

"Oh, Will, lighten up and have a little fun!" she said airily, diving smoothly into the water and resurfacing. "It _is_ freezing!"

Will watched her warily. "Miss Swann, you shouldn't be doing this."

"And why not?"

"Because- because..." He paused, thinking of a good excuse. "Because the water is too cold! Your heart might stop."

She rolled her eyes, treading water. "I think I'll be fine, Will. Really."

"No, really. You might get hypothernia."

Susan frowned. "Isn't it hypo_therm_ia?"

"Whatever. Anyway-"

"Tag; you're it!" Elizabeth swam away, leaving him stunned. He followed in frustration.

"Miss Swann, really, you shouldn't be-"

She laughed. "Will, I'm fine. Really! Enjoy yourself."

"You could do with some relaxation," Tom pointed out.

Will was perplexed. "Relaxation? What do you mean?"

"Well..." Elizabeth watched him hesitantly. "It's just that you're...well, you're..."

"You're slightly uptight," Tom finished for her.

"Which means you never have any fun," Susan couldn't help but clarify.

"I have fun," Will protested.

"That wasn't we were saying," Elizabeth objected quickly.

Tom nodded. Well, at least as much as you can when you're in water. "Exactly. But it wouldn't help you to loosen up a bit."

Will looked at each of them in turn. "I'm not uptight," he said at last, a defensive tone in his voice. "I'm just busy."

Elizabeth looked as if she was about to say something, but was interrupted. "Lizzy? What are you doing?"

Will groaned, going under water and watching her scramble over the banks. He was going to try and avoid James like the plague, no matter what the cost.

When his lungs felt like they were going to burst, he finally came up for breath. He could see Elizabeth and James hurrying back toward the manor. "Do you think she'll be in trouble?"

Tom shook his head. "Her father doesn't seem that strict."

"Not at all." Susan grinned. "By the way, your shirt is done."

TBC...


	21. Mentorture

a/n: Sorry it took me so long again...Life has been pretty crazy lately...

Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews; I love them! I believe williz asked Will/Elizabeth's ages; I think Elizabeth is 13, and Will is going on 13.

Enjoy!

Romen

Disclaimer: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

Chapter 21

Mentorture

"I finished your shirt." Elizabeth spread it out on the bed and patted it fondly. "I do hope that the stitching was small enough."

Will ran his hand over the collar, fingering the light stitch. "Thank you so much, Miss Swann. It's...wonderful."

She laughed. "It's only a little stitching; nothing too serious, though I _was_ tempted to embroider a flower."

"I will take very good care of it," he promised. "I'll never tear it again."

She sat down on the bed as he handled the shirt, staring at it. "Good! It would be a shame if it were to tear again." She fell silent for a moment before saying, "James is leaving today."

Will didn't reply. He pretended to become interested in an invisible speck on the shirt.

Elizabeth leaned closer to him. "I think that you two should at least try to patch things up before he leaves."

Will stood jerkily and went over to the chest of drawers. "What is there to patch up?"

"Please Will. James is my friend. I would like it very much if you at least bid him farewell."

He threw the shirt in a drawer and slammed it shut. "James and I don't get along very well, Miss Swann."

She stood, walking over to stand next to him. "Please Will; can you not do it for me?"

He heaved a relenting sigh. "I suppose..."

"Thank you Will!" She grinned. "That means a lot to me."

Will said nothing. Elizabeth watched him for a moment. "How is your eye doing?"

"Huh?" He fingered the bruised eye, trying not to wince. "Oh, it's doing fine. It doesn't hurt at all."

"That's good. What about your nose?"

"Great," he lied.

She shook her head. "I hope it heals up soon." She perched herself on the edge of the bed, growing serious. "My father wanted to see you yesterday. You aren't in trouble, are you?"

Will chewed on the inside of his cheek hesitantly. "Not really," he said, slowly.

"Good. What did he want to see you about? If you don't mind telling me," she added quickly.

He sat down next to her, letting out a deep breath. "I wasn't exactly punished."

She tilted her head to the side, confused. "What do you mean?"

He slouched against the wall. "I have to see Lieutenant Norrington for a few mentoring sessions."

He had expected her to laugh. Instead she made no sound at all. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was completely stunned.

"Well," she finally managed to say, "that isn't too bad, is it?"

"Not really. I thought it was going to be something worse." He almost wished it was, so he could bravely face it and impress her.

"And the Lieutenant isn't all that bad, is he? A bit serious at times..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "He can also be a bit cryptic and not very interesting..."

Will cleared his throat. "Elizabeth?"

She stopped musing. "Yes?"

"I was just wondering..." He paused, feeling foolish. "Well, never mind. It was a silly question anyway..."

She frowned. "No, really, ask away."

"It was stupid. So, how is-"

"No, what did you want to ask?" she pressed.

He flushed. "Well, um, I was just- just wondering..." He paused again. "We're friends, aren't we?"

She blinked. "Of course we are."

"Good," he sighed in relief. "I mean, of course we are. I was just making sure..."

She leaned against the wall. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious...Oh, look at the time. I have to see the Lieutenant."

She stood. "I suppose I'll meet you this evening, then, to see James off."

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh-huh."

Shortly after she left, he hurried down to the parlor, where he was supposed to meet Norrington. He dreaded this appointment almost as much as he dreaded 'seeing James off'. He mustered up all of the optimism he had before pulling open the door.

Norrington was seated in a chair beside a chest board. On the other side of the board was another chair.

"Good day," he said simply.

"Good day, sir," Will mumbled.

"I believe you know how to play?" He gestured to the board.

"Yes, a little, sir." Will sat down in the chair awkwardly, staring down at the black pieces that were his.

"How is your face doing?" Norrington moved a pawn two spaces forward.

"It's a little sore, actually, sir." Will moved his pawn forward, not really paying any attention. "But it's getting better."

"I'm glad to hear that. But remember, no action comes without consequences, even if they come back to haunt you further on in the future than you expected." He took Will's pawn, sliding his own into the same square diagonally.

Will, who took this to be Norrington's first words of wisdom, moved his rook and took the pawn. He wondered how long he would be here...

"Young Mr. Brunswick admitted to provoking you."

Will's jaw clenched. "He did, sir."

Norrington stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose he thought that was noble."

Will watched him move a piece, his hands clenching the arms of his chair. "I suppose."

"It would be what a gentleman would do." The Lieutenant paused. "However, a gentleman would have also controlled his feelings, and spoken politely, according to his company."

Will glanced at him quizzically as he took his turn. "Sir?"

"A gentleman," Norrington explained, "controls his feelings, his words, his actions. He's noble, honest, respectable, and not overbearing. He knows not to go too far, but to go far enough."

Will blinked. "How does he know how far to go?"

He tapped his nose knowingly. "By his place."

"His place...?"

"His roll in society. Everyone has a duty that they fulfill, no matter what their place is. A civilization is like the inner-workings of a clock. The cogs are all dependent upon each other. If one stops spinning, they all do."

"I understand." Will took another turn. "But- what if he does not know his place?"

Norrington thought for a moment. "Then he must find it."

Will frowned. "How does he find it?"

Will feared that he was going to say, "By joining the navy, of course!", but instead he said, "Laws hold a society together, young man. If the laws are not obeyed, then it shall fall apart. By simply obeying orders, a man shall find his place. Or, in other words, it will help him recognize the requirements of his station."

"So, laws-"

"-should be strongly enforced," Norrington finished for him. "It is extremely vital that one realizes their importance; which is to hold together a society, to create structure and balance."

Will nodded. "I understand."

(Space)

"Will!" Elizabeth hurried over, smiling. "How did it go?"

He hesitated. "It was interesting."

"That's good. Anyway, we should hurry. James is in the library." She sighed wistfully. "It seems like he just got here yesterday."

Will didn't say anything.

"I'm going to miss him," she went on as they climbed the stairs. "We don't get to see each other very often these days."

Will skipped a step. "What do you mean?"

"We try to write each other as often as we can, but he's very busy with his studies. Uninterrupted visits like this are very pleasant. Unfortunately they hardly ever happen, if they do at all."

"Is that so?" Will asked, a little too brightly.

Elizabeth frowned, watching him intently. She could hear bickering from inside the library. 'Blast,' she thought to herself, stamping her foot on the next step. '_She's_ here.'

"Miss Swann?"

"Hmm?" She glanced at Will. "Oh- um, nothing."

After all, she might not be there. It might be him...

She thrust the door open and stepped inside bravely.

"Liz!" An arm was immediately wrapped around her shoulder. "I haven't seen you in ages."

Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. "You were at the gala, Oliver."

"I forgot." He gave her a small smile and brushed the dark hair that was always falling in his eyes away. "We didn't get to converse very much."

James appeared behind his shoulder. "Get out of the way, Oliver."

"All right, fine." Oliver turned to Will. "I remember you. Liz told me about you. You're Peter, right?"

Will blinked. "Will."

"Will- what?"

"That's my name," he replied stiffly. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

James lip curled. "He's my younger brother."

Will snorted. "Brother?"

James was about to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Elizabeth suppressed a groan.

It was Wendeline.

She smiled staunchly at Elizabeth. "Elizabeth. I hope you're well."

"Good day, Wendeline." She returned the smile kindly. "I am doing fine, and I hope that you are as well. This is my friend, Wi-"

"Oh, yes, I remember _you_." She batted her eyelashes in his direction. "We didn't get to speak very much, and I'm sure that you don't remember _me_. I'm James's younger sister. My name is Wendeline."

"I'm Will. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Elizabeth clasped her hands behind her back. "Well, now that we've all been intro-"

Wendeline butted in. "No, really, the pleasure is all mine. It's so nice to get meet someone from England, someone with some class and culture. Everyone is so tasteless here. It's as if they've forgotten that we come from a civilized nation."

He nodded her on enthusiastically, as if it were the most interesting thing he'd ever heard.

"Why don't we sit down?" Wendeline gestured toward the chairs.

Will shot over to the bench.

"So..." Wendeline planted herself in a chair across from him. "What brought you here, William?"

"I was working on a ship," he replied eagerly.

She lowered her chin. "That sounds like very difficult work."

Will nodded. "We were always afraid of being attacked by pirates."

She gasped.

"The captain posted me as look-out- sometimes..."

She leaned forward. "He must have really trusted you."

Will grinned stupidly.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "I didn't know you were look-out, Will. I thought your service consisted of mostly odd-jobs."

Will's mouth clamped shut. "Well-"

"There's no shame in that," Wendeline pointed out wisely. "You did your part."

Oliver snapped his fingers. "That reminds me of the time that we were sailing out on Father's boat, and James fell overboard and we had to save him."

James shot him a glare. "Be quiet."

Wendeline crossed her legs. "Really, Oliver, we all have heard that story one too many times..."

"So how are your studies going, Oliver?" Elizabeth interrupted loudly.

Oliver smiled cheekily. "The same."

"Horribly," James snapped. "He never shows up for his sessions-"

"I was horseback riding," Oliver retorted. "I had better things to do."

"And you never practice Latin-"

"It's a dead language anyway!" he exclaimed.

"I agree." Wendeline tugged at the fingers on her gloves. "It's not like we're going to speak it anywhere, and French is just so much more beautiful and romantic."

"I think they're both a waste of time," Oliver pointed out. "But I study French more than I do Latin."

"You don't study either of them," James sneered.

"Yes, but if I _was_ going to study one of them, it would be French." Oliver bounced in his seat. "I almost forgot! Liz, have you been to the cave around this area?"

Elizabeth frowned. "Cave? I didn't know that there _was_ a cave in this area."

"I heard about it outside of a pub," Oliver continued.

"I'm going to tell Mother that you sneaked out again," Wendeline jeered.

He didn't pay her any mind. "Anyway, someone was saying that there's a cave out here where natives used to practice sacrificial rituals and worship their gods. Only sacred religious leaders could pass through it. One day a group of pirates landed here, on this very island. They slaughtered the natives and took all of their valuables. The pirates had already collected a large amount of treasure, and they hid everything they had gained in the cave. Every single person went in, and not a single man came back out.

"It's said that the treasure is still there. But so is the wrath of the native priests. Whoever finds the treasure has their soul sucked out and trapped beneath the ground, with the pirates."

James shook his head. "I don't believe it."

"Then don't believe, but I do." Oliver turned to Elizabeth. "I know where it is. Want to go?"

"We shouldn't go, Miss Swann," Will interrupted quickly.

Oliver blinked. "And why not?"

"There's no point," he spluttered. "Besides, caves can be dangerous."

Wendeline shivered. "And dirty."

"But it would be fun," Oliver pointed out. "Especially if we found the treasure."

Elizabeth sighed. "I don't really care. Let's just go."

TBC...


	22. The Cave

Hey everybody! I am totally sorry about this super slow update. I know, I know, I'm bad...Anyway, I'm back and I'm not quitting! It's just been hard for me to find time to sit down and write lately.

Anyway, wasn't the second movie awesome? (That stuff about Will's dad was a real tear jerker, tho)

Thanks for all of the reviews! I love them all!

Enjoy!  
Romen

Disclaimer: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 22**

**The Cave**

"I know it's _some_where around here..."

Wendeline scowled, swatting at a dragonfly. "Well hurry up and find it, Oliver, I'm perspiring, and ladies don't perspire!"

Oliver frowned, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, it was in this direction..." He turned abruptly to the left.

James sighed. "Remind me why we're doing this again?"

"Because it's fun!" Oliver replied with enthusiasm.

"What are you doing out here?"

Elizabeth turned around. Susan and Tom were standing side by side, watching them with amused expressions on their faces.

Will wiped sweat from eyes. "We're looking for a cave." He glanced at Elizabeth.

Susan snorted. "A cave? Why do you want to find a cave?"

"Because there's supposed to be loads of treasure inside!" Oliver exclaimed, still not losing any of his pep.

"Oh, you mean the cave that's supposedly haunted by native spirits that suck out your soul?" Tom asked knowledgeably. He nodded to the right. "It's in that direction."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "You've been there before?"

Tom shrugged. "Once or twice. I've never gone inside of it though."

"Can you take us there?" Wendeline pleaded. "My brother doesn't have any idea of how to get there."

Oliver shot her a glare.

"Why not. Susan, do you want to come along?"

She smiled grimly. "No. Someone has to know where they can find your bodies when you don't come back tonight." With that said, she pitted on her heel and marched off in the other direction.

Oliver reluctantly allowed Tom to take the lead. For a total of five minutes he chatted away at Elizabeth, who nodded and said, "Yes", "Oh", and "Really?" every so often. She was spaired further agony when James told him to be quiet...just not in those words.

"I'm so glad I didn't wear my new dress," Wendeline was informing Will, one hand lightly poised on his shoulder. "Father brought back the latest fashion from France. I've been dying to wear it, but I haven't yet got the chance. I see you dressed appropriately for the excursion, Elizabeth." Her blue eyes flashed. "I wish that I had your foresight. If I had known we were going outdoors, I would have worn something a bit less- fashionable."

Elizabeth stared at Wendeline's innocent smile. James made a small coughing noise. Tom and Oliver were too busy arguing to have noticed.

"I like your dress, Miss Swann," Will mumbled, his head down.

"Did you hear that?" James smirked. "He likes the _dress_, Lizzy."

Elizabeth flushed, her shoulders stiffening.

James hooked his arm with hers. "He's right though; it looks adorable on you."

Will made a strange choking noise.

Elizabeth glanced at him. "Are you all right?"

He didn't say anything, but pushed ahead to go stand by Tom.

James frowned. "He's an odd one, that Turner. Awkward at times..."

"He's my friend," Elizabeth replied, surprised at how defensive her tone was.

"I know, I know," he interrupted quickly. "I was just saying-"

"I don't care what you have to say about him," she cut in stiffly. "He's my friend, and I don't want you talking about him. I care about him, James."

James's (dazzling) blue eyes narrowed. "You care about him...?"

"NO, no!" She could feel her face grow warm. "No, I don't- fancy him or anything like that; We're just friends good friends..."

For some reason she felt guilty saying that.

James, however, looked pleased. "That's good. For a moment, I thought you were saying something entirely different."

She laughed nervously as James proceeded to tell her about the time he was in Italy. She tugged uncomfortably at the neck of her dress. It was funny to think that even though she had known James quite some time longer, she still felt just as comfortable around Will, if not more so. They were both important to her. She sighed softly, watching Will up ahead of her. Why couldn't those two just get along?

Suddenly, Will turned to look at her. For some reason, she felt her heart jump into her throat, and looked away.

"There it is!" Oliver shouted exuberantly. "The cave!"

(Space)

Wendeline wrinkled her nose. "We're actually going to go _inside_ of it?"

Tom stared at her, thoroughly disgusted. "I thought you wanted to find it?"

James frowned, coming up to stand by them, Elizabeth in tow. "We're going to need some kind of light..."

"I have a candle," Wendeline offered.

"I have matches!" Oliver quipped.

Tom shook his head. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Will, however, wasn't worried about how they were going to see. Elizabeth was tenatively stepping toward the mouth, framed in the deep darkness. She looked so small. He'd known her long enough to know that she was stronger than she appeared to be, but for some reason, none of that seemed to matter at the moment.

In other words, he did not want her going in.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he intercepted hastily. "We shouldn't do this."

Oliver took that as a personal offence. "And why not?"

"We don't know how safe the cave is," Will explained. "It doesn't sound like anyone has ever gone inside and checked it."

James smirked. "You don't actually believe those ghost stories, do you?"

"No, but bad things happen to people in caves!" Will spluttered.

"People sometimes get lost and starve to death, or there's a cave-in and they have to chew their own arm off," Oliver said wearily. "Cryptic things of that sort. But that won't happen to us, Turner; we're not daft enough."

It was at that moment that Will truly began to question Oliver's sanity.

"Well I'm not going in," Wendeline stated with conviction. She batted her eyelashes at Will. "You can stay and keep me company. I'll be scared in this jungle, all on my own."

"Oh stop acting so coy, Wendeline," James sighed. "We need to hurry; we have to leave soon."

Will, seeing that he was fighting a losing battle, tried a different approach. "We should at least try to stay together. Why don't we choose pairs, just in case someone gets lost?"

"Good idea," James ageed. "I'll be with Lizzy." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder protectively.

"I'll stay with you, Will!" Wendeline latched on to his hand.

"That leaves you and me, Oliver," Tom added dryly.

Oliver, needless to say, wasn't pleased. "Who's going to hold the candle?"

"I will," Elizabeth offered. Oliver lit it and handed it over.

Tom scratched his neck. "Are we all set?"

To Will's dismay, Elizabeth and James took the lead, since she was bearing the candle.

"So what are you going to do with your share of the treasure?" Oliver queried after a few minutes of silent walking (with a complaint here and there from Wendeline).

"Donate it to the colony," James proposed gallantly. "It would speed up construction."

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "I suppose I'd build a library with it."

Wendeline scoffed. "A library? What good is a library?"

"She has a point, Lizzy," James commented gently. "Your head is far too wrapped around books for a girl. You should use it on your wardrobe."

Will felt something smolder in his chest. "You can use your money on whatever you want to, Miss Swann. I think a library is a fine idea. Maybe if people actually spent their time doing something constructive here they'd form a civilized society."

"Thanks, Will," she muttered sincerely.

"What are you going to do with your share, Mr. Turner?" James inquired sharply.

"Uh- Well, um..." Will fumbled over his words. "I'm not very sure yet."

Actually, he was _very_ sure what he was going to use the money for, but it was one of those ideas that a person doesn't want to voice outloud, for fear that it won't sound as good outside of the mind. With his share of the money, he hoped he could climb his way into the aristocracy. Find a status that would make him worthy enough to call her "Elizabeth" instead of "Miss Swann". Perhaps even be able to compete against James.

"Oh!" Wendeline's shrill cry pierced his thoughts. "Will, oh Will! I think I just saw a rat!"

Will squinted, unable to see in the dark. "Where?"

She shuddered. "I hate rats! They frighten me so. But you're so brave, to not be scared of them."

Will grinned. He couldn't help himself. A compliment from Wendeline's rosey red lips was enough to send any boy floating on clouds, no matter how utterly senseless and lame it was.

There was a faint rustling noise. Elizabeth started. "What was that?"

Tom spoke from behind Will. "Bats, probably."

Wendeline gulped. "Bats? There are bats in here?"

"Maybe they're vampires?" Oliver suggested hopefully.

"There aren't such things as vampires," James corrected.

Elizabeth glanced upward. "Do you really think there are bats in here?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Oliver knelt down and picked up a rock, and before any of them could do anything, he cast it to the roof of the cave.

Tom turned out to be right. There were, indeed, bats in the cave.

Wendeline screams faded into the shrieks of the bats. She climbed on top of Will, smothering him with lace and silk. Somehow he managed to extract her, and followed the others as they ran to the mouth, the same direction that the bats were heading. He instinctively began to count each person. One, two, three, four, five...

Elizabeth was missing.

"Wait!" Will grabbed James arm, holding him back. "Elizabeth! She's not here!"

James pulled free and continued running.

Will swore, seizing Oliver. "Give me your matches!" he roared.

(Space)

Elizabeth cursed herself. How had she been idiotic enough to run in the opposite direction?

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she muttered to herself. "You saw where they were all going! Why didn't you follow?"

At least she had somehow managed to hold onto the candle. Without it, she would be completely hopeless. She had no idea what direction she was going in, and no idea what direction she was supposed to be going in! If she was without light, the situation would just become worse.

"Remain calm," she told herself slowly. "Just remain calm. They're probably looking for y-"

_Crunch._

Elizabeth looked down, afraid of what she would see. She bit back a scream. She had stepped on a human skeleton.

"Stay calm," she squeaked, sinking to her knees and staring into the empty eye sockets. "Stay calm. Stay calm. Oh my goodness."

There were dead people in this cave.

She drew in a shakey breath. She wondered how this person had died here. She wondered what their last words had been. She knew what hers were: _Do you really think there are bats in here?_

It just didn't seem tragic enough...

She caught a glint of something clutched in the gnarly hand. Hesitantly, she pulled the stiff fingers apart and slid it free. It felt smooth and bumpy in her palm. When she held it closer to the candle flame, she could make out beads. It was a jade bracelet.

"Maybe there is treasure in here, after all!"

The sound of footsteps caught her attention. She opened her mouth to call out, then clamped it shut. This cave was supposed to be haunted. What if the stories were true? What if the spirits really did steal your soul? Rashly, she blew out the candle and snatched a rock, sitting still.

She could hear the sound coming closer. There was a small glow. Her heart was pounding. She wondered if the spirit could hear her. The footsteps were only a few steps from her...

Without a second thought, she chucked the stone.

There was a thud of impact, then- "Ow!"

Elizabeth fell forward, supporting herself on her palms. "Will! Will, is that you?"

"Miss Swann?" He raised the match, so that she could make out his face. "Is that you- ow!" He dropped it suddenly.

"H-here!" She reached out and clutched his arm. "Here, I have a candle."

He lit it swiftly, crouching down next to her. "Miss Swann, are you hurt?"

"N-no." She shivered. "And call me Elizabeth, please, Will. We've been friends l-long enough."

"Elizabeth." He said the word slowly, softly. "Are you all right?"

"Y-yes," she managed to stutter.

"You're trembling." He put his hand on her shoulder. "Miss- Elizabeth?"

She couldn't help herself. She burst into tears. "Oh Will! It was horrible!" She laid her head on his shoulder. "There's a dead person over there!"

"What?" He grimaced, holding her closely. "Oh my..."

"I thought I was going to die in here!" she wailed. "And when you came, I thought you w-were a ghost, and that you were going to k-kill me. I'm sorry if I hurt you, I didn't mean to..."

"It's all right," he whispered soothingly, stroking her hair. "It's all right, Miss Elizabeth."

She sniffed, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Thank you, Mr. Will."

He ignored the humor. "Don't ever do that again," he mumbled, still holding her. "I thought I'd lost you."

She sighed. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Elizabeth." The seriousness in his voice shocked her. "I'll never let anything happen to you."

She lifted her head. "What?"

His eyes shone in the dark. "Whether it is in my power or not, I will defend you from any foe."

She blinked.

"I will never let you down." His voice was low. "I promise."

Elizabeth didn't know whether she should start laughing or cry again. "I don't know what to say..."

He let go of her, turning away. "I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

She bit her lip. "No, Will, it's fine..."

"We should be going. The candle is burning low." He helped her to stand.

And that was all that they said until they stepped into the daylight.

(Space)

"Good-bye, Lizzy." James took her hands, smiling. "I promise to write as soon as I can."

"Good-bye." She smiled weakly.

James leaned forward and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. Will's jaw clenched as Elizabeth's face went bright red. He turned to face him.

"Mr. Turner." He held out his hand. "No hard feelings?"

Will shook it, clenching James's hand as tightly as he could. James returned the gesture.

"Will, would you mind helping me up, please?" Wendeline called over. Will walked over, taking her hand helping her to step into the coach.

"Good-bye," she whispered softly. "I'll miss you."

He nodded.

She smiled. "Do you find me pretty?"

Will gaped at her forwardness. "Yes."

She tilted her head to the side, one eyebrow arched higher than the other. "Prettier than Miss Swann?"

He said nothing.

She laughed. "Just as I thought." With that said, she slammed the coach's door closed, and they departed.

Elizabeth went over to stand by him as they watched them disappear down the road, her cheeks still pink from her encounter with James. "What did she say to you?"

He grinned. "Nothing."

She rolled her eyes. "Boys! Always being so secretive!"

He pretended to look offended. "Really, Miss Swann! What about girls? Always being so moody."

"Oh really!" She hit him playfully in the shoulder, laughing.

He loved her laughter. He loved making her laugh.

He cared about her a lot.

TBC...


	23. Autumn Festival

Hello all!! I have been gone a long time, but I'm back. And I'm sorry. I'll try to update again soon, hopefully in a week or two.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this one!! As always, thanks for the reviews!! They are very appreciated!!

I also apologize for the typos. I'm a bad editor and my computer's crazy and, to make a long story short, my spellcheck is down.

Romen

Disclaimer: unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

**Chapter 23**

**Autumn Festival**

"Will, hurry up!" Elizabeth ran forward, the ribbons in her hair streaming as she ran. "We're going to be late!"

"Hold on, Miss Swann! Slow down!" He grabbed her arm seriously, shoving past people in the bustling street. "You don't want to get lost. What would your father say?"

"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport! It is the Autumn festival, after all." She grinned, her eyes scanning the stalls. "Oooh look a perfumerie! Let's go look at that!" She dragged him over, immediately beginning to pick up the little bottles.

Will handled one confusedly. "Are you going to buy one of these?"

"Perhaps, if I find one that I like." She sprayed her handkerchife and sniffed. "Hmm...It's nice." She held it out to Will.

He blinked in puzzlement. "What is it supposed to be? Dirt?"

"Roses, Will!" She shook it in front of him in frustration. "The Fragrance of Roses!"

"Oh. It smells more like dirt."

She scowled. "Well I like it...Oh, James!" She waved at him. "James!"

Will groaned.

"Lizzy!" He hurried over, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "What are you looking at?"

"Perfume. Tell me, do you like this scent?"

"Yes. It's my sister's favorite." He glanced over at Will. "Oh. Hello."

Will nodded curtly before pretending to become interested in an array of bottles.

"Are you entering in the baking contest?" James asked.

"Oh, yes! Is Wendeline entering?"

James rolled his eyes. "Of course. She has to have her foot in everything."

"Will is judging," Elizabeth offered, looking toward Will. "Right, Will?"

"Yes." He fingered some jewelry.

"Oh really. Well at least it will be easy for you. Stuffing your mouth doesn't require much thought."

Will slammed the brooch in his hand back on the table. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go get ready." He glared at Elizabeth. "I hope you two enjoy yourselves."

He stormed out of the stall, ignoring Elizabeth's protests. Why did James always have to keep him from spending time with Elizabeth? Why couldn't he allow them even two minutes of peace? And why would she let James get away with remarks like that? Will couldn't say anything about James without her throwing a fit.

Life had been so much simpler before Elizabeth had asked Will into the kitchen to help her sample a cake on that fateful day.

"Aye! Will!" Oliver appeared in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to be a judge in the baking contest," he explained.

"So'm I." He cocked his head to the left. "Come on. It's going to start soon."

Will followed him down the road glumly. 'Forget about James and Elizabeth!' he told himself. 'Enjoy the festivities!' However, that seemed to be impossible at the moment.

They reached the stage where they were to be judging. Surprisingly, Tom was sitting at the table, chatting with Susan, who had a tray sitting on the table. "Hello."

"Oh, you're judging too?" Tom leaned back.

Susan sniggered. "They must have been really desperate to ask you for help."

"Not right now." He laid his head down on the table. "So you entered?"

She shifted, looking bored. "Yes, I decided to. I mean, you win some money and material and things, and I thought that I could use them. It would certainly save me a lot of money and time."

He nodded. "Good luck."

"Oh, Wiiiiiiiillllll!" A gloved hand flew in front of his face as he felt two lips give his cheek a kiss. His face lit aflame. "I can't believe that you're judging! But it makes perfect sense; you have _such _good tastes."

He smiled stupidly. "Miss Brunswick."

"Here, would you mind putting this down for me, love?" She handed a tray to Tom. "Thank you. Oh Will, it's so nice to have you here. You know, I was afraid that I wouldn't get to see you again."

"M-Me?"

"Yes," she replied seriously, a hand dramatically placed on her chest. "But I'm glad that fate played it's card, and brought us together again."

"Sister, move." James nudged her out of the way. "Ah, I see you've found Mr. Turner."

Elizabeth and Wendeline glanced at each other uneasily. Suddenly, Wendeline turned back to Will.

"Have fun, all right?" She tweaked his chin with a crooked finger before stepping back.

Will looked pleadingly at Elizabeth, but she only turned her nose in the air and looked away.

"Sorry I'm late." Katherine arrived promptly, a plate clutched to her chest. "Are we ready to begin?"

It turned out that there was one person left, who came shortly afterward; a meek, funny looking girl named Emily with large, green eyes.

They started with Wendeline's plum pudding. She turned to Will first. "Here." She shoved a large spoonful in his mouth. "Do you like it?"

He managed to say, "Iffewygoo."

Everyone else got to serve themselves.

After that came Katherine's cherry pie. Will had to admit that it was tangy, and the crust very flaky. Third was Susan's chocolate pudding, rich and creamy. Next was Elizabeth's cake; always his favorite. And then there was Emily's chocolate pie, very sweet but heavy.

"We have to choose who wins by majority," Oliver explained as they all turned to face each other. "So...who're you voting for?"

James tapped his finger on the table. "Wendeline's was a bit bland; Katherine's pie was a bit bitter; that servant girl's was a bit thick; and that Emily's was too flavorful."

Tom scowled at him. "Did you like anyone's? And what about Miss Swann's?"

James frowned. "It was...all right."

"I liked Miss Swann's," Will snapped. "Personally, I think it was the best."

Oliver grinned. "I liked Emily's. Or Katherine's." He glanced at her.

Tom shrugged. "They were all good, but I think that Susan is probably the one who worked the hardest."

Will bit back the earge to shout, 'Elizabeth worked just as hard as anyone!' If Susan heard him, he could imagine the consequences...Besides, she had little time to do anything outside of her work as it was; she probably did work the hardest.

"We need to decide." James cleared his throat. "Your decisions?"

(Space)

Wendeline chewed her lip, fanning herself with a lacey fan. Katherine waited patiently, while Susan tugged at her apron. Elizabeth glanced at each of them nervously, and Emily twisted a strand of hair around her finger.

It was a scene of anxiety.

Oliver plopped his legs on the table. "We've come to a decision," he declared. "After much debate, thought, blood, sweat and tears-"

"Hurry up, Oliver!" Wendeline snarled. She smiled sweetly.

Oliver shot her a glare. "I'm choosing to ignore that rude interruption. Anyway, the winner is Miss Susan Benton."

It took a moment for it to register in Susan's face. "_Me_?" It didn't sound like her voice.

Wendeline was just as shocked. "_Her_? How did that happen?"

"We made our decision. Here." Tom gently handed her the bundle. "Good job."

Susan didn't say anything. She stared at what she had in her arms, then ducked her head down, hurrying away.

"This is ridiculous!" Wendeline snapped her fingers in front of James's face. "This is all your fault!"

"Don't whine, Wendeline," he replied idely. "It's not like you actually made that yourself, anyway."

"Tell him Oliver! Tell him how hard I worked!"

Will observed the scene for a moment before sidling out from behind the table. He walked over to Elizabeth, watching her face unsuredly.

She shrugged. "Oh well. At least it was fun."

"Your's was the best," he said quietly. "It should have won."

"You don't have to assure me. Susan must have worked very hard." She paused. "Come on. Let's go for a walk."

He followed her slowly as they walked by the stalls. "So are you going to buy the perfume?"

She bit her lip, looking down at her hands. "Actually, James already bought it for me."

"Oh." He clenched his fists. He hated James.

"But, um, I didn't really want him to..."

Will fought to stay in control. He gritted his teeth. "How _thoughtful_ of him."

"It's just a silly perfume," she said quickly, sounding flustered. "It doesn't mean anything, Will."

He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything, at least nothing that was appropriate to say in front of a girl.

"Do you want to get a candied apple?" she asked tenatively.

"No thank you. I'm not very hungry right now."

"All right. When I was younger, my father and I used to make them every fall. I guess I still like them." She laughed, smiling warmly at him.

Will couldn't help himself; he smiled back. "I used to make them with my mother, too. They were her favorite."

"Really? Maybe we could make some of them together sometime?"

"That would be nice," he agreed, trying not to sound too eager.

"Will, look at these sashes!" She rushed over to a stall, letting a silky lilac sash sift through her fingers. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes. It's very soft."

"But the blue one's nice too! Oh, but I like the gray one as well..." She bit her lip, eying them seriously. "Which one do you think would look better on me?"

He hesitated. "They would all look good on you."

"Really, though; which one?" She frowned, tapping her foot. "I'm just not sure."

"I like this one." He handed her the lilac scarf. "It's...I don't know..."

"Thanks. I'm going to buy it." She reached for her change purse.

"No, let me."

She gawked at him. "Will, really, it's all right. I can pay for it myself."

"I want to buy it for you."

"You shouldn't-"

"Please." He went over to the stallkeeper and handed him the coins.

"Thank you," she murmured sincerely, fingering the sash.

"It will look, um, really nice when you wear it." He could feel himself blushing.

They strolled down the street in silence. Finally they stopped outside of a bookstore, sitting down on the ledge. Will had recently taken a side job here, and often brought Elizabeth books.

"So how was it being a judge?" she asked at last.

"It was...interesting." He grinned. "The food was really good."

She shook her head, smiling wryly. "I'm sure it was." She fell silent. "So what do you think of James's siblings?"

He shrugged. "Oliver's all right. He's a little bit...reckless, but he's not mean. At least I don't think he is."

"And Wendeline?" Her voice sounded strange.

Will swallowed. "Um...she's nice."

"She's very fond of you," Elizabeth pressed.

"Yes. But I think she's just bored."

"What did she say to you today? James and I saw her talking to you when we arrived."

"Oh, um, that..." He chuckled nervously. "She just said that she was glad to see me again, and she kind of...kissed me..."

"What?!" Elizabeth cried, her eyes wide. "She kissed you?"

"Only on the cheek," he interjected. "She was just saying hello..."

Elizabeth snorted. "Just saying hello? Please, Will..." She scowled. "_I_ don't kiss the people that _I_ say hello to."

"James kissed you," Will pointed out.

"What are you talking about?"

"Before they all left; he kissed you."

"B-but that's different!" she spluttered furiously. "I've known James for practically my whole life; you've only known Wendeline for a matter of weeks."

"I wasn't the one who kissed her; she kissed me!"

"I know that! But Wendeline's very fickle, Will; I just don't want her to hurt you."

"I know she doesn't care about me," he said softly. "That's why the kiss meant nothing to me. She's just bored."

Elizabeth blinked. "You mean you don't fancy her or anything?"

He shook his head. "No! Of course not. I couldn't."

"She's not all bad, but...She's a bit...selfish, I suppose." She shifted awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Will said nothing. He was feeling very strange...like he was there, yet he wasn't. The word 'Elizabeth' was playing on his lips, taunting him, temping him to say it. His stomach churned with anticipation.

"Erm...Miss Swann...I..." What was he trying to tell her? Even he didn't know. "I think that we should be getting back to the manor," he said at last. "It's getting late."

"You're right." She stood. "Thanks for coming with me today, Will. I had a lot of fun."

"I did too. Your cake was delicious."

She smiled. "There's some left over, if you would like to have it."

"That would be nice."

"But you have to eat dinner first," she told him firmly. "Otherwise you'll ruin your appetite."

"What if I skip dinner instead?"

"That's not very healthy."

"It's a holiday, technically," he insisted.

"Oh, very well." The sides of her mouth twitched. "But just because today was the festival."

(Space)

"All right, that's enough." Elizabeth placed the lid over the tray.

Tom laughed as Will scowled. "But I only had one piece! And it was small!"

"You can't have sweets for dinner," she advised him wisely. "It will make you sick."

"Miss Swann..."

Tom grinned. "Stop complaining...and be a good boy and eat your supper."

"Just one more piece?" he begged. "One very small piece?"

"No; you'll be too full to eat your dinner."

"That's not true!"

The sound of the door clicking caught their attention. Susan shuffled in. She glanced at them warily.

"Congratulations." Elizabeth smiled. "On winning, I mean."

Suprisingly, Susan smiled back. "Thanks, Miss. You did a good job too." With that said, she hurried up the stairs.

Will blinked. "That was interesting."

Tom frowned. "Do you think she's feeling well?"

"You two are so insensitive!" Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Isn't it possible that Susan just felt threatened before, and now she feels accepted?"

Will's eyebrows rose. "Huh?"

She sighed frustratedly. "Never mind. Anyway, she'll probably be back to her usual self by tomorrow."

"That's so strange..." Tom stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I wish she would have stayed longer."

"Her cheerfulness wouldn't have lasted long, though." Will lifted the lid off of the tray. "She would have hit me or knocked my chair over."

Elizabeth scoffed. "Really, Will, don't exaggerate."

"I'm not exaggerating!" he protested, in the process of cutting himself a rather large slice. "She always does something like that to me; everyday!"

"You know, you're the only one who she really does that to." Tom propped his elbow on the table.

Elizabeth cocked her head to the side. "You know, you're right."

Will swallowed what he'd been chewing. "What do you mean?"

"She doesn't hit _other_ people or knock _their_ chairs over." There was an edge to Tom's voice.

Will's face reddened. "What are you trying to say?"

"I don't know...Just that she seems to pay more attention to you, that's all."

"She hates me!" he spluttered. "She can't stand me! She would like to see me gone!"

"Let's not try to read Susan's mind," Elizabeth cautioned, sitting down next to him. "She's complicated. But I don't think that she hates you, Will."

Tom smiled wryly, nudging him. "I don't think so either."

"Stop it." Will glanced at Elizabeth, trying to keep himself from hitting Tom.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Boys! Now Tom, _James_ wouldn't have done a thing like that."

"Oh yes, I forgot; James does no wrong," Will snarled, stabbing his cake violently. "You don't know what he's like when you're not around."

She bristled. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know...It's just you don't know what he's like when he's not around you."

She heaved a surprising sigh, clasping her hands concernedly. "I suppose you're right..."

Will picked at the crumbs sheepishly. She seemed a little upset, and he didn't like to see her like that. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that..."

"Don't worry about it. You have a point." She stared off into space, her brow furrowed.

Will watched her. He wondered what she was thinking about. James, most likely...What did she even like about him? Well, he knew the answer to that, but still, it couldn't be his personality that was so appealing.

'He probably is really charming around her, and maybe she likes the way he looks...he's not very tall...but he's smart, and rich...Maybe he speaks to her in French, when they're at his villa, while they walk through the vineyards or something...'

He let out a heavy breath, cutting himself another slice. 'Besides, she's known him practically her whole life. She said so herself. And she's only know me...' He stopped himself, bending over his plate.

"I've got to start heading home. Good night to both of you." Tom stood, looking slightly embarrassed, waving in their direction before walking out the door.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "It is rather late..."

Will nodded, still wallowing in his own thoughts.

She eyed him curiously. "Is that your third piece?"

He felt his face warm. "Um...I think it is..."

"Will!" she exclaimed, laughing. "You can't eat the whole thing!"

His face grew warmer. "Well, I was just hungry, and this is really good, so I, just, um..."

"I'm glad you like it." She tapped her chin. "Maybe I'll make one for your birthday."

Will froze. "Um, you don't have to, I never do anything for my birthday..."

She nodded sympathetically. "Then maybe for Christmas, or another holiday."

"So do you have any family coming down for the holidays?"

She shook her head sadly. "Not this year. We got a letter a few days ago. You know how long it takes mail to get here...But there are some local dignitaries and friends back from England coming to survey the colony."

"Will there a big celebration or- something like that?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps; this is the first time that anyone has been to check up on us by the kingdom."

He shifted uneasily. "That sounds...fun."

"So did you ever get together with your whole family to celebrate the holidays?"

"No; it was always just my mother and me. We didn't really see my grandparents or my uncles or my cousins very often..." He hesitated. "They didn't really...like me very much."

She frowned. "I don't see how. You're very polite."

He flushed embarrassedly. "Thank you."

She chuckled. "See what I mean?"

"I didn't get along very well with my other family." He picked at his food. "After my mother passed away, I was sent to live with my uncle and his family. I was only there two days before they took me to the abbey. They didn't like my father very much..." He broke off.

Elizabeth rubbed her shoulder warily. "They sound terrible. I'm sorry they weren't there for you when you probably needed them the most."

"It's all right, I was able to get along on my own..."

"But you shouldn't have _had_ to," she insisted. "Someone should have been there to help you through it. Losing someone like that isn't easy."

Will tried to look unconcerned. "It's nothing; I don't care what they thought of my parents. How long does this take to bake?" His voice was slightly shakey.

"Will." Her voice was low and serious. "It's all right now."

He stared at her. "It's getting late...I don't want you to get in trouble for staying out too long..."

"You're right." She smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow"

"Let me walk you back. It's dark out." He stood. "You shouldn't go alone."

"Thank you. And you can keep the cake; have as much as you like."

He started. "Really? Thanks!"

"But don't eat it all in one night." She rose to her feet, taking his hand. "You have to save some for tomorrow at least."

He grinned. "If you say so."

They snuck through the manor, giggling and talking under their breath. They seperated at the stairs.

"Good night, Will; I'll see you tomorrow," Elizabeth whispered before darting up to her room.

"Goodnight." He watched her go into her room before turning around and heading back outside. He had that same, giddy feeling that he'd had before; the one he didn't like, but he did like. He felt like telling someone something, maybe just talking about Elizabeth. He smiled as he thought of her, entering the servant's quarters. He was lucky to have met her.

"You were out late," a voice drawled from above.

Will skidded to a stop. "Susan, what are you doing up?"

"You really think you're daring, don't you?" She rolled her eyes. "Sneaking out at night, with Miss Swann."

"For your information, I wasn't sneaking out," he retorted defensively, climbing up the stairs. "I was escorting Miss Swann back to her room."

"Same difference." She crossed her arms. "You should be glad her father didn't come looking for her. You could have gotten her in a lot of trouble."

He blinked. "What?"

"If her father had found out that she had been out late, she would have been punished. You don't want that to happen, do you?"

Will pushed past her. "Leave me alone, Susan."

He slammed his door shut before she could say anything else.

TBC...


End file.
